


Scattered Stars

by Zara_Zara



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, But it's not gonna be....good?, Cigarettes, Diary/Journal, Dreams, Drinking, Drunkenness, Europe, Evan POV, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Full disclosure I didn’t want Larry to be an asshole, Happy Ending, However for the purposes of this fic he IS, Hurt/Comfort, I feel I should say that early on, I'll tag as I go, If you are a Kleinsen stan maybe don't read???, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Infidelity, Kleinsen, Kleinsen - established relationship, Larry Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen) Being an Asshole, Letters, M/M, Magical Realism, Mental Health Issues, Misplaced Guilt, Mystery, Original Character(s), Poetry, Referenced Drug Abuse, Slow Burn, Song Lyrics, Songs, Suicide Attempt, Travel, Treebros, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, alternative universe, and i love them, dreams because im ridiculous, fateful encounters, guilty Evan, i promised y’all a happy ending, just things are a little more than they seem?, quotes of poetry, references to past suicide attempts, theres not much magic, time jumps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-01-02 19:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 108,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zara_Zara/pseuds/Zara_Zara
Summary: Evan Hansen has had 3 fateful days during his life.The first day, Evan was 12 years old, and he received a fortune he would never let go of.The second, Evan was found by Connor Murphy.The third, Connor Murphy vanished, and Evan was the last to see him.*Everything that can happen, will happen.*"There's one more day, one more fateful day, there has to be, he's sure of it. He only hopes that when that day comes, he finds what he's been looking for."





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! I’m back with a new WIP!! Folks, I have Plans. I have plans for this and I intend on delivering. I’ve been dying to write this particular fic cause the idea came to me while I was writing Nowhere Man and I KNEW that if I started it that right in the middle of NM, I never would have finished NM. So, here it is...finally starting....aaaa I’m so happy. Btw, this was supposed to be light and fun, but it turned dark really fast and I’m scared. 
> 
> Full disclosure, updates will be slower. Probably, bi-weekly. 
> 
> Ok, long author’s note is long, I’m done.  
Please, enjoy~

“How much longer are we stuck here?” Jared whines and looks at his watch, tapping his foot. 

Evan quietly says, “I think another hour.”

Jared groans, “Ugh I’m so _ bored _,” he walks faster going somewhere, Evan isn’t sure where, but somewhere. Evan trips over his feet to keep pace with Jared and accidentally bumps into him. Jared indignantly jumps away, “Dude, space.”

“Sorry…”

They keep going, wherever it is they’re going. It is nearing sunset and the lights of the amusement park are beginning to flicker on in a colorful and brilliant way. Evan wipes the pooling sweat away from his forehead. Slowly, crowds of more and more people seem to be entering the park as the sun sinks lower with the closing of day. 

Now he’s much more aware of the sounds, the chatter, the screams, the lights, and the people than he was earlier. All of this kind of wants to make him crawl into a dark and quiet place like his room or the bathroom for a bit. His attraction to the park is slowly beginning to drip away like the melting ice cream Evan doesn’t really want to eat. 

Jared dashes away to the arcade and Evan tosses his cone in the trash before jogging after him. He knew that going to the amusement park would be a lot of walking but he didn’t expect to be chasing after Jared at every turn. 

Evan enters the arcade and it’s a little darker in the nice dim-lighted way. Lively electric sounds and music play all over the place. The floor is sticky with a mysterious substance and there are little pieces of raffle tickets all on the floor.

Evan finds Jared playing Pac-Man with a highly-focused look on his face. His new glasses reflect the screen and his brow is furrowed in concentration as he wiggles the joy-stick aggressively about. Evan brushes shoulders with Jared as he peeks at the screen and watches as Jared leads Pac-Man straight into an unfortunate head-on collision with a pink ghost.

“Aw man, Evan! You gave me bad luck, dude,” Jared has color high on his cheeks probably from playing so hard. 

Evan tugs on his shirt and looks down, “I’m sorry…”

“Whatever, just don’t follow me anymore,” Jared turns on his heel and heads towards another brightly flashing game. There is a delighted yell and the sound of a high pitched bell, Evan turns to see a pair of friends hopping around a machine as a rope of tickets spew out of a game. Someone replaces Jared's place at the Pac Man game without a word and Evan moves away, unsure of where to go and what to do with himself. A sour taste sets in his mouth and he feels seconds away from being set a drift. 

He searches for Jared. He spots his brightly colored hawaiian shirt first and when Evan approaches Jared again Jared just rolls his eyes and doesn’t say anything. To Evan's growing sense of gloom, Jared ignores Evan’s presence and goes from arcade game to arcade game, not asking if he wants to be his Player Two, not even once. This is not exactly unexpected because Jared has informed him, very honestly, that Evan is not a good person to play video games with because he lacks competitiveness; however, Evan knows that that was coming from a person who does not like losing as he's seen Jared yell at a screen during the tournament modes of certain games. So, it's Evan. The problem is himself. Evan would likely not have seen Jared once during summer were it not for today. 

Throughout their time there at the amusement park, Jared has barely-concealed how much of an exercise of patience it has been to remotely even interact with Evan for a prolonged period of time in public. It wasn’t either of their idea to do this, it was a combined and ill-thought-out plan of both their mothers who thought they needed to spend more time outside of their homes and together. 

Even if the past hour and a half they’ve been there has been strained, the one thing they could both agree on is the fact that neither of them like the big roller coasters. But that also means there’s not much else for two 12 year olds to do in an amusement park. Thus, Evan watches Jared play different games, close to his side, and the sour taste in his mouth begins to subside with each sound of a coin rattling it's way into a machine.

He finally grows bored of watching Jared race in circles through an impossible mountain and decides to move away. 

Evan roams through the various games and watches people play games with guns or hop around on that dance game that seems like more exercise than actual fun.

He’s roaming when, seemingly, without realizing it, his feet lead him face-to-face with a mannequin of a regal blindfolded woman. A thick veil etched with stars cloaks her braided black hair. A sign rests atop it in faded gold lettering that simply reads: FORTUNA. Painted between the letters are little stars and planets, some of them dimly lit with LED lights. Her presence is an unusual sight amongst the other fixtures of the arcade and Evan finds himself reaching for a quarter as he stares at where her eyes should be. 

In chipped, old-timey letters above the coin slot, it reads: “Fate and Faith are One.” Evan slips the quarter through the slot and looks expectantly at her.

The lady doesn’t move for a second before the dark hand that rests atop the crystal ball, lifts slightly, and then proceeds to orbit over it. The lights dim in the box momentarily, letting the orb shine brightly and cast an unusual shadow on her face. The light catches her mouth in an enigmatic Mona Lisa smile that speaks of detachment and a little bit of something that Evan can’t place, as if she’s heard a sweet song.

Without much ceremony, the hand returns to the orb and it all stops as if nothing happened. Evan hears a rattle. 

A thin red paper slithers out of a slot of the machine and Evan catches it before it falls to the floor. The paper is soft like ribbon, and the writing, small and black, reads: “Your Essential Day: September 25th,” Evan flips it over and it says: “2:05 p.m.”

_What does it mean? _

He squeaks when a hand falls on his shoulder. Jared laughs obnoxiously, “What are you doing all the way over here?” His eyes catch what’s in Evan’s hands, “Ooo what’s that?” He makes to grab it but Evan shoves it deep in his pocket, the paper feels important, he stutters “I d-don’t know. Something d-dumb." 

Jared gives him a bemused look.

Evan wearily smiles, “W-why don’t you try it?”

Jared spares the machine a glance and turns on his heel, “Nah, it’s just a creepy doll. Anyways, I’m bored again. Let’s get out of here.” 

They have a little under thirty minutes to kill so Jared leads them to the throwing games. Jared misses all of them and the gameskeeper offers Evan a turn, Evan aims the dart at a red balloon and flicks it---**POP! **Evan gives a small surprised laugh at what he did and also for the look of confusion on Jared’s face.

“No, no, no...that was a miracle. A disruption of space-time and everything I know to be true,” Jared pulls out a dollar bill, “Do it again. I need to see you fail so I feel comforted.”

Evan tries again, he aims, focuses on the targets, and pops two more. On the last three tries he wonders at how he did the first three and becomes too self-aware of how he's holding the dart and if his aim is true. He throws, and he misses. 

“I knew it,” Jared claps him on the back, “Tough luck, buddy,” and then he drags them to a ring toss which Jared proceeds to do so well in that he gets a prize. 

They are heading back to the main entrance where they are meant to be picked up, and all the while, Jared has been throwing the prize, a striped unicorn, in the air. Evan knows that Jared only did so well because he comes here often enough with his family to have had the practice. Regardless, Jared wears a smug smile.

“Can you believe it? I can’t believe it.” 

Evan nods, a small smile of relief on his face because they are going to go home and he’s tired. His feet ache and all he wants is to slip under his bedcovers and go into the warm happy place that is sleep. He feels eyes on him and turns to see Jared giving him a curious look. Evan reaches a hand up to his own face, wondering if he has something on him. Jared looks as if he’s thinking about something and then suddely he pushes the unicorn into Evan’s chest and blurts, “You have it.”

Evan stops in his tracks, “What? Why?”

“Don’t question it or I’ll take it back,” Jared starts speed walking towards the exit for nor discernable reason and says over his shoulder, "Jared giveth and Jared also taketh away.”

Evan sighs and jogs after him, hugging the unicorn to his chest and all the while thinking of the curious red paper slip in his pocket. 


	2. Under the Iron Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry the chapter is not as long as I would have liked it to have been but the next chapter should be longer (actually, it WILL be longer haha) 😆  
Note: any mistakes I make are my own, I don’t have a Beta—-we die like tired writers here. Please enjoy the new update 💕

**5 years after Connor vanished.**

“Wow Evan, you really know how to treat a girl right.”

“Huh?”

“Christ, what do I gotta do? Go under the table and give ya a blow job?” A person at the nearest table gives Evan a hard-side eye, he knits his eyebrows apologetically. Jared doesn’t catch that exchange and continues to say, “You’ve been staring at your pasta carbonara for the past 10 minutes. Honestly, it’s a little creepy. What’s on your mind?”

Evan’s face heats up and he plays with the cuffs of his dress shirt, “I—I just didn’t realize what day it is.”

“What do you mean?” Jared goes pale-faced and whips out his phone, before lowering it with a relieved groan, “Thank fuck, I thought it was our anniversary for a second. Which reminds me. You have to tell me why we’re in such a ritzy place for dinner now…” Jared scrapes the plate with his fork and Evan twitches, a smile grows on Jared’s face as he faux-suspiciously says, “You didn’t publish a secret book and hit bestsellers list again did you? Is it something you’re embarrassed about? Maybe a new, crappy 50 Shades of Gray, except gayer?”

“Well um,” suddenly the box in Evan’s pocket feels very heavy and like it’s burning a hole through his jacket. He’s almost sure it’s going to slip out and splash into his wine.

“What’s it called? 50 Shades of Trees? Oh my God, does it incorporate tree sex? Vine restraints?” Jared chokes on his laughter and Evan waits him out, his legs jittering around beneath the table, some part of him that’s not affected by the wildness of his head is impressed that the table doesn’t vibrate with his jumping knees--- it must be because these tables are fancy tables in a fancy restaurant with fancy people. Evan is not fancy. Nor is Jared for that matter. These kinds of things cross each other out. An elimination of unalike things. 

Even with his formal wear on, Evan can’t fool anyone. He's wearing a stiff button up shirt that is just this side of itchy and slacks that are a duller gray than many of the other patrons are sporting. Across from him, Jared sports something similar to Evan as he didn't bother changing out of his work clothes which consists of a blue shirt that brings out his eyes and a Pac-Man tie. He wonders if Jared also feels uncomfortable in what he's wearing? It doesn't look like it, he has his sleeves casually rolled up and his hair remains gelled in place (something Evan can not achieve because he runs his hands through his hair too often). Jared's glasses catch the light and he can see faint scratches and smudge marks, he suddenly wonders if Jared is ever uncomfortable in his own skin. 

A handsome couple floats by their table on their way to a dim-lighted and vacant booth. He curiously watches them settle down and then disapear behind their raised menus. 

The sensation that he’s entered a surreal dream is about to settle over him. It is as if the restaurant is not a restaurant at all but the glowing lights and immaculate people are all beautiful fishes in a grand aquarium. Evan feels fake, like someone threw a toy fish amongst a pool of luminescent jellyfish. He shouldn’t be in this place, it’s too nice for him. 

Jared stops sniggering and glances at him, “Dude, your _ face. _Am I right?”

"What?" He completely forgot what they were talking about.

"Christ, you're really out of it."

“It’s—,” There’s so many _ things _on his mind right now he feels like he’s going to explode. On top of that, all day, his heart has been heavy, and now it weighs on his tongue, it tastes like iron and old seawater...It weighs on him, even after all these years. 

“You’re not breaking up with me right?” Jared chuckles, “I mean, I think I’ll be fine as long as I can get this food to go.”

“What? No!” Evan sits up straighter, this time he actually does hit the table with his knee and the silverware travels an inch to the right. Evan drags a hand down his face and sighs, “Connor. I was thinking about Connor.”

“Oh.” Jared’s fork lowers slightly, hanging just below his chin. He pauses, “How long has it been again?”

“Five years.”

“They still don’t know what happened to him?”

“No.” Evan looks away.

“Poor fucker. I hope he’s sunbathing in Mexico or something.”

“Mexico?”

“I mean it’s better than picturing him dead and in a ditch isn’t it?” Jared lightly kicks his leg with a small smile. 

The image of Connor, pale and staring soullessly out of a gutter flashes in his head. He quickly rearranges that into Jared’s suggestion. _ In Mexico, and in the sun. Warm and smiling softly at the sound of the engines of the ocean. _Evan likes that vision a lot better. Evan returns the smile slightly. He then remembers the small box in his pocket, a band of gold flashes in his mind's eye and he feels a swell of affection. 

“Jared—”

“Gentlemen, May I offer you the desert menu? Today’s specials are the chocolate creme brûlée and the chef’s special,” The tall waiter eyes Evan’s full plate, “Sir, shall I come back? Perhaps when you are finished?”

Jared stares imploringly at Evan through his Ray Bans and may as well be making grabby hands at the waiter. 

“N-no, I think I’ll just take this to go. We’ll see the desert menu, please.”

******

They walk through the streets of San Francisco, all of halfway across the nation from their hometown. They might as well be all the way in a different world.

It’s the kind of night where the fog has rolled in and chills the air just enough to tug on a jacket. They never have real summers or winters. There is never a need for winter jackets or the like. To Californians, a white winter is some magical experience only far-off people and places get to experience. They don’t know the kind of bitter and dark winter he and Jared had grown up with in the east. He can’t say he misses the snow, because when it snowed there were too many chances for something to go wrong like power outages, catching a cold, cars skidding on ice...Too many things. 

They talk mostly about work, the topic of Connor long gone even if he still lingers in Evan’s head, like a spectre in his peripheral vision. It seems Jared always has a lot more to say about what he’s doing, or atleast, Evan listens to what he has to say even if he doesn’t understand half of what he’s told. 

The instances when he and Jared are able to just share a simple conversation are rare. The fact that much of their conversation consists of work is chalked up to the fact that if they had more time they’d probably talk about something else.

Evan thinks it’s kind of like when they used to be students, all they would talk about then was school and classes. So here they are, work as the subject, although Jared doesn’t have the same patience for Evan’s own job, but he tries sometimes. Evan feels he should be more present because who knows when this may happen again? He should be engaging in the conversation but he _ can’t_. 

Evan hugs his coat tighter around himself and, as a result, feels the slight press of the ring box against his side. It reminds him that he failed---again. Several months ago he had been so proud when he had been able to get Jared’s ring size. Figuring that information out without clueing him into what he was doing was about the most stressful experience Evan had ever experienced---and he’s a man whose life has been defined by Stress for 90% of his life, so the second he had found out he had almost shouted in delight. One moment he’d finally acquired the information, and then the next he was in the ring shop buying a golden band with the royalties he’d earned on his book. That was the only big purchase he’s ever made with that money. He still can’t wrap his head around how his book was actually successful, in fact, he can’t wrap his head around how he even wrote a book to begin with. 

He tries to tune in back to the conversation but he’s feeling a whole swirl of negative emotions and it makes his feet heavy with each step they get closer to their place because he can stop at any number of places along the way, get down on one knee and get it over with---granted a gritty city sidewalk wouldn’t be the most romantic but it would give Evan great peace of mind. 

They are turning the corner to their apartment building and Evan nearly shakes with the desire to just do it right where they are standing waiting for the pedestrian sign to flip at the crosswalk. It would be kind of a funny story, right? Later, he and Jared will be able to share the story of Evan’s impromptu proposal with their friends and families. Evan can just see it now, he would call his mom and tell her how it went, and then he'd call Zoe straight afterwards. No...maybe he’d wait until he could meet them in person so he could see their reactions. He then imagines that he’d bring it up during their wedding and it’d be the story that everyone has heard of by now but _ it’s just so silly and sweet, and it’s their proposal story for Christ’s sake. _

His hand trembles as he reaches for the box and then Jared snickers, “---and Swiper-Sam hasn’t tried to swipe my sandwiches again. I’m a genius, right?” He throws a grin at Evan and then does a double take, “Dude, are you ok? You look like you’re gonna hurl.”

Evan rubs his forehead, he feels clammy, “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Oooh-kay,” The crosswalk signal gives changes and they cross the street, “Jesus, do you think I should apologize to Sam? I mean if I grossed you out just talking about it then maybe---”

“You should apologize,” Evan wasn’t following the story at all and has no idea what Jared did but he _ knows _ him. He firmly nods and breathes in deep, feeling his heart begin to settle, “Definitely.”

******

They’re getting ready for bed. Evan discreetly slips the ring box in the hidden place he’s had it in for months now: in an empty shoebox--where Jared would never look, because he leaves his shoes all over the place. They’ve had _ conversations _ about that, but that’s another matter. He’s been working up the courage to propose to Jared for what feels like ages now but he can never get the words out. It never feels like the right time or place or mood---it never feels like the right _ anything_. 

Evan pads through their flat to their bedroom and finds Jared already under the covers.

He kind of hopes Jared would ask why they went out for dinner but he doesn’t.

He whispers, “Good night,” and Jared snores in response.

Evan turns off the lamp and falls asleep.

******

_ He’s at the beach and it’s dark. A full moon hangs brightly atop the ocean’s horizon, it’s light falling onto the water like a silvery trail. Waves swell upwards in a slow arc before crashing without a sound. There is a lone figure standing waist deep in the water, they are tall and thin, too delicate for the waves that rush by them. Evan wants to step closer but he can’t, he wants to tell them that they’ll get carried away and disappear but he’s frozen. _

_ The words to warn them stay stubbornly in his mouth and the person slightly turns their head as if they hear what he cannot say. Evan sees the very tip of an eyelash and then a giant wave rises up and swallows them without a sound. _

Evan jolts awake, heart beating fast. He covers his face and wills the emptiness in his chest to subside. 

_ Connor. _

Jared stays asleep beside him, his snoring an actual soothing sound that Evan clings to in the darkness. He begins to reach for him, he wants the comfort of a human touch, but something stays his hand. _ I don’t deserve that. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know how you liked it!  
If you have any constructive criticism I’ll really welcome it because I wanna improve my writing. But please be nice if you do want to give me feedback. Also, if you have any theories I'd LOVE it if you shared them because comments are my lifeblood! ❤️


	3. Might as well be Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories, funny thing they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for TW in end notes.

Why does he always seem to come home to an empty apartment? 

He’d like to ask someone that. He’d like to go up to a neighbor’s door and ask, “Hey, why am I alone when I get home?” 

This hypothetical neighbor would be the kind of person who lounges on those long dramatic couches with a wine glass in hand. They’d give him a long suffering sigh and say something like: “Being alone is normal, Evan. It’s not a bad thing, sometimes it’s nice to have a space for yourself.” They’d sound like his therapist, but that’s neither here nor there. 

And then he’d say: “Sure, but I’m tired of this. This has happened for too long.”

“Do something about it.”

“I’ve tried”

They’d fix him with a silent look that’d say: “That’s life.”

And deep in him he’d think: _ no, that’s not it. That’s not the life for me. _

Evan automatically switches the lights on and they emphasize the emptiness. He turns them down almost to the lowest setting where the lights of the city are brighter than the ones inside his own place and he lets the day fall away. 

Evan shrugs off his jacket and puts his briefcase away, somewhere he can’t see it and be enticed into doing some extra work. He has the feeling he might do that anyways but it doesn’t hurt to hide it from himself.

When he was younger he knew he didn’t like it. He didn’t like this, this knowledge that the people in his life, the people closest to him, appear in his life as often as strangers who share the same bus. 

You recognize their face, and it’s almost a comfort to see them sitting across from you, but you don’t know their name, you don’t know who they are, but their presence is distantly familiar. 

He doesn’t begrudge Heidi for her absence in much of his childhood. He understands that she was trying to make a living for the both of them and she had to make sacrifices to make ends meet. He also knows that that was due, highly in part, because of the flat-out absence of his father. He doesn’t blame her for it, but it doesn’t erase the memories he has of coming home and being alone with his own thoughts for company. 

It doesn’t erase those times he’d see money on the counter and not touch it because he didn’t want to call to order delivery. He had rather go hungry than stress that he’d drop the pizza box when it was handed to him or that he’d accidentally touch hands with the person and they’d be disgusted to feel the sweat on his fingers. Then there were the times he wouldn’t see his mom at all because she’d come home when he was asleep and then leave before he’d woken up. Moments when he really needed a hug and could only have the TV as a distraction to combat the way he felt like he was going to fall apart at any second and if he just paid attention to the questions that were asked in Who Wants to be a Millionaire then maybe he can get it together to start doing his homework. 

And now there’s Jared, his boyfriend. The cycle repeats itself. Maybe he’s being needy, maybe this is normal. But it sure doesn’t feel normal to feel as if his loved ones pass through his life like ghosts.

Nowadays, he’ll come home and see that the remote control is in a different place from where he left it---Yeah, Jared was here at some point during the day. _ I missed him because the grocery line was too long. _Or he’d be getting up early in the morning for a meeting and Jared would still be sleeping because he had a later start, and Evan didn’t want to wake him up so he’d pull the blankets over him and brush a kiss onto his forehead before leaving.

Evan once left a sticky note on the fridge with a message, like what some couples do on TV, but he got embarrassed by how much empty space there was surrounding the little slip of pink paper, a little smiley face stared dutifully back at him and he snatched it off the fridge mere seconds after he placed it there. It looked positively ridiculous and he wasn’t sure why it felt like the stupidest thing he’s done in a long time, but it did. So, he crumpled up the paper and stuffed it in his pocket in case Jared somehow saw it in the trash bin and took the opportunity to poke fun at him. On that particular day, things got so chaotic at both of their jobs that they hadn’t spoken a word to each other in three days.

Sometimes it’s not like that though. Sometimes they’ll both be up at the same time in the morning and Evan will lean against the counter as Jared prepares the coffee because when Evan prepares the brew it tastes like “armpit” or “Dobby’s sock” or many of the other creative descriptors Jared feels a shining to. Or sometimes there’s a movie they both really want to see and they insist on setting aside time in their schedule to watch it together and then they actually have a nice night in each other’s company, a nice night that might lead to a little more. 

But those moments are rare. That’s why they are “sometimes.” 

These things, they add up. And Evan doesn’t know if what they accumulate to is sufficient enough to... 

His phone vibrates on the counter. He has a new message. 

It’s a text from Zoe.

_ -Hey _

_ -Wanna come over sometime? Lana and i wanna watch a new movie _

A happy thrill goes through him and he goes to the couch to respond.

**Of course :)**

**When?**

******

**December 31, 2017**

ROCHESTER, New York. — A teenager was reported missing in the Rochester area Wednesday evening, authorities said.

The Rochester Police Department said Connor Murphy was last seen wearing black jeans and a black hoodie. The 17 year old was described as having medium, shoulder-length brown hair, and heterochromatic eyes (left eye is blue and right is brown). 

Anyone with information on whereabouts was asked to call Rochester police at...

******

**5 months before Connor vanished.**

Evan holds onto the branch of the tree and lets his legs swing without purchase. He feels the emptiness and all the height between the ground and his position high up in the tree. His heel kicks lightly against the trunk of the tree and it swings forward, he grits his teeth and holds tighter. 

Before he lets go he wants to memorize the feeling of clutching the branch, of what it feels like to grip something so tightly that his hands scream in exertion to hold him up. 

But he has to do this. He chose this tree, he chose this time, he didn’t really plan on the day but he knew he would feel when the time was right. And he did, he had been snacking on an apple outside his therapist’s office and then when he tossed the core away, _ he knew. _And then his feet did not lead him to their door. They had turned him straight around and led him here. 

There’s the barest trace of apple in his mouth, he tastes it when his tongue swipes over his teeth as he struggles to keep his grip firm. Evan carefully blanks his thoughts, shutting them down like walking through a building and turning off the lights one by one. 

Of course, in time, his mom will be happy (probably within a short amount of time). Who wouldn’t be happy to be free? Unburdened? The one great impediment to a normal life is him. She won’t have a broken son anymore, Heidi Hansen can start over without him. _ Click. _He flicks that thought off like a light switch. There goes that thought. Snapping into the dark. Get rid of it fast like a band aid so the pain is only brief. 

He continues. 

She will be free like he will be in a matter of seconds. His brain will turn off, everything will turn off and go quiet. Isn’t that as lovely as the buttery green leaf fluttering by his pinky? _ Click. _

His fingers slip a little and he wiggles them for better purchase. Honestly, it’s going to be great for everyone. Jared won’t have to tolerate him, he can make better and cooler friends who are new and not “family friends.” His dad, will not have to think about his son who has lived and grown far away from him. He will be able to look at his new children and be happy that they are normal---he won’t want to leave them like he left Evan. He won’t drive away from them in a red pick-up truck. 

Evan squeezes his eyes shut, it’s getting harder to hold on much longer. _ Zoe, _bright and brilliant Zoe. Nothing will happen to her when he’s gone. She’ll probably frown momentarily at the news that a student from school has died, and then the moment will pass and she’ll smile the smile that Evan searched for everyday to make his day a little brighter. 

_ Click. _

Are these really his last thoughts?

Evan peeks up at the sky, it’s a dreamy blue and he smiles. 

He falls.

It’s loud. His heart is loud. So loud that when he hits the floor he doesn’t hear anything but his pain. The pain is hot and bright and white and his heart stops. 

“What the _ fuck!?” _

His heart jumps into action and he gasps when his hand twitches. 

_ Wait_. 

_ Who’s there? _

He blinks and dots flurry his vision as he stares up into a pale blurry face. The figure is dressed in black and has dark hair framing their face. He wonders if they are a spirit that has come to reap his soul. He hopes they do it soon, he hurts so much. Evan closes his eyes so that maybe they can know he is ready.

A high pitched trill rings in his ears, through it he can faintly hear what sounds like a voice. Maybe they are giving him instructions. Maybe if he listens hard enough he will be able to understand them. 

Evan hears a _ Thud _ beside him, and then he snaps his eyes open and the ringing noise snaps into cutting clarity, “Are you ok? Hansen, you---.” The figure---no, the spirit is kneeling beside him, except now he can see their face. With a swoosh of shock he realizes he recognizes that face and it’s _so bizarre_ Evan squeezes his eyes shut because he can’t understand what he is seeing. This is all so strange. Why can’t it all stop? He enters a place that is all pain and it’s like being submerged in water except the water is pain and it lasts so long and then---

“Hansen!!”

Zoe Murphy’s older brother, Connor Murphy, stares down at him with wide mismatched eyes and says, “Hansen, stay with me. Don’t you dare fucking close your eyes again.” Evan notes that Connor’s hair catches the sunlight that slips through the leaves and shines a faint rusty red. Evan is glad he fell on a sunny day. It was beautiful to see the sky.

Evan blinks slowly and croaks, “Hurts.”

“I’m sure it fucking does. What happened? No, you know what? _ Where _ does it hurt?”

Evan squeezes his eyes closed at another wave of pain. It’s hard to get a reply out and it’s easier to let the part of his brain that wants to shut down take over. So he lets it do just that. 

“HANSEN.”

Evan begrudgingly squints at Connor and furrows his brow, he’s barely aware of what’s coming out of his mouth, “You’re still here?” 

Connor’s face twists up into bewilderment, “The fuck, man? I didn’t go anywhere?” 

“It got dark for 5 hours.”

“O dude,” Connor covers his face and mumbles something too low for Evan to hear, “I’m calling the paramedics.”

Evan jerks up to a sitting position and his arm screams in agony, “No! No! Don’t do that.”

“You might have a _ concussion!! _I’m sure as hell calling an ambulance!”

Evan shakily starts to get up, “Don’t, the trip...Ugh...the trip is too expensive. Can’t afford it.” 

Connor sounds aggrieved, “You can’t—-” and then he helps Evan up, Evan flinches when his arm moves the wrong way, “Goddamnit, are you ok? No, that’s a stupid question because obviously you’re not—”

Evan sways on his feet, and steadies himself on Connor’s shoulder, “Thanks.”

“Fuck, ok. What are you doing?”

Evan wobbles away, his mind on getting out of the park and reducing the pain in his arm, “I'm going to walk.”

“To the _ hospital_?” 

“Yeah.”

Connor sputters “Wait, what? _ Wait_,” Connor suddenly blocks Evans way and holds his hand up, “How many hands am I holding up?”

“Hands?”

“Fingers! Shit, I’m just—-just answer the question,” Connor is frowning and runs a nervous hand through his hair. Evan is not concussed, but he entertains him anyway and focuses on the two fingers Connor holds up, “Two,” _see? Not concussed, _Evan shakily gives a thumbs up with his good hand, “I’m ok.”

Connor gives him a skeptical look and then seems to decide something, “I can drive you.”

The instinctive feeling to not be a bother rises up and he says, “That’s ok, you don’t have to.”

“What are you talking about? You can’t seriously _ walk _ over there.”

“I can—“ Evan sways and then a hand darts out to steady him. The world is not spinning but his brain is thoroughly disengaged and doing some serious somersaults, a faint ringing noise begins to creep up and he shakes his head to clear it away. 

Connor repeats, “Let me drive you.” 

Evan goes through a series of arguments that speed through his head too fast for him to keep up with, and then it’s as if he’s watching himself when he says, “Ok.” 

And then they are suddenly in a car. A car that faintly smells of weed, but Evan is no state to judge because he barely notices when Connor helps pull his seatbelt over him and when the car begins to move. 

As they drive, his arm relentlessly throbs and he gets dizzy each time his eyes fall on the unnatural bend of it that seems better suited for a funhouse mirror rather than real-life. His arm is bizarre, the situation is bizarre because he’s in Connor Murphy’s car of all people, but strangest and (most unfortunate of all) he messed up. 

He failed. Evan Hansen failed and managed to mess up dying. 

Not only is he still alive, but now he is alive and has a broken arm. A drop of water hits his hand and then he’s suddenly aware of the tears rushing down his cheeks. Evan sniffles loudly when his nose gets too plugged up with snot and he raises his good hand to wipe his wet face.

Connor notices, “Hansen?” Evan hears hesitation in his tone, “Does it really hurt? We’re almost there,” Evan can’t bring himself to look at him so he fixes his eyes outside, “Are you ok?”

Evan sucks in a breath and chokes on a sudden wave of anguish. He jerkily nods and holds back a quiver of his shoulders. He can’t have a breakdown here with Connor Murphy, someone he barely knows (really doesn’t know at all). Evan is going to disgust him and Connor will think he’s really weird and he’s going to regret helping him. Maybe he’ll tell him to get out of his car and walk the rest of the way because he’s being annoying. They’re a little closer to the hospital, he can walk the rest of the way if he has to.

Connor asks him the same question again and Evan can’t breathe.

Evan doesn’t realize they’re parked at the side of the road until he hears the number “nine,” and then he inhales at the number “ten,” and exhales carefully until the name of the next number. Evan’s brain refocuses like a disturbed body of water stilling into neutrality once more. Crisp air from the car’s open windows that Connor must have opened at some point brush his cheek and cool his hot and tear-swollen eyes. “One,” Evan inhales when he looks at Connor, and he simply just looks at him. 

Connor wrings his hands and seems to be waiting for any sign that he should count again. Evan’s heart warms with gratitude for the concern that is clear as day that fill the eyes of a virtual stranger. Except, Connor is not _really _a stranger, they practically grew up together since elementary school but they were more like parallel lines that never strayed into each other's lives. Of course he knows of Connor Murphy, he just never knew who Connor Murphy was. So, he is a familiar stranger, and his strange familiarness is oddly comforting. 

“Did that help?” And his voice sounds so small, Evan reels in the face of the understandings he’s having of the boy beside him. For a handful of seconds, Evan had forgotten his broken arm and felt he actually _ saw _Connor Murphy with such clarity that an edge of guilt bitters his observations somewhat. 

Evan takes a deep breath of air and coughs, “_Yes,” _but something in him is still raw and the tears won’t stop even if he wishes they would, he shudders and covers his face, “I’m suh-sorry, I’ll stop.”

“It-It’s ok,” Connor says awkwardly.

“I’m fine,” Evan tries to reassure him, “It’s just, they won’t s-stop,” he gestures at his face and a smile tugs at his face in some attempt to appear like Evan would be more put together if he were in any other situation. 

“Alright, I’m going to keep driving but---” he doesn’t finish that sentence, but Evan knows what he has left unsaid: they will stop if he has another attack.

Evan doesn’t look at him, “Ok, thank you. Sorry.” _ About this, about inconveniencing you, about probably ruining your day. Sorry about me. _

“You’re ok...And stop saying sorry.”

“Sorry.”

Connor sighs, “_Dude _.” 

“So---” Evan shuts his mouth. 

Connor glances at him and then rubs his forehead, he’s frowning slightly and then he turns to start the car again with an air of tiredness behind his movements, “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

******

Evan has a cast and it is decidedly blank.

At least he doesn’t have to look at his funhouse mirror of an arm anymore because it’s buried in plaster. 

Evan is released to leave and as he steps outside he finally brings himself to call his mom but he gets redirected to voicemail.

He says, “Hi mom, I uh---” he can’t say it, he can’t say what happened. He just wants her to see his arm and know so he won’t have to explain by speaking with his words, he rushes out, “Call me back when you have a chance. Or, I know you’re busy, you don’t have to call me back but something happened and---I’m fine, but something happened and I think I’d rather tell you in person. Again, I’m fine. Don’t worry. Uh--I’ll see you when you get home? Or whenever. Ok, love you, bye.” Evan hangs up before he can say anymore and covers his face because he didn’t mean to say that much and she’s probably going to worry even if he told her not to (that is, if she ever hears it). He considers maybe calling again and telling her _“Hey, yeah, I was thinking, maybe I should tell you now...I broke my arm._ _OK, see you later. Bye!” _But he hears the tinkling of car keys.

“Hey,” Evan turns around and sees Connor rise from a bench in the shade of the hospital, “You’re done?” Connor stuffs his hands in his pockets and approaches a thoroughly confused Evan where he stands on the sidewalk. 

“Yeah?” Evan thought Connor left after he dropped him off. He didn’t expect for Connor to wait for him. 

_ Why is he here? _

That question must be plain on Evan’s face because a flash of self-consciousness passes over Connor’s face as he raises his keys, “I thought you might need a ride...You know, back home or something?” He fidgets with a strand of his hair and then slowly lowers his keys when Evan doesn’t say anything, “Forget it, someone is probably picking you up or something. Don’t know why I---” He starts to turn away.

“No!” Connor jumps slightly, and Evan quickly goes to say, “Sorry, I mean, yes. Yes, I’d really appreciate a ride and thank you for even driving me here in the first place? That was very nice, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me. I would have walked here and that would have been very sad and tiring and _ wow _ I’m glad that didn’t happen,” Connor still looks surprised, either by what Evan said or how fast he said it, but at least he’s not turning away anymore thinking Evan ungrateful, “Thank you again, honestly. I don’t know why I didn’t say anything at first, you just surprised me is all,” Evan chews on the inside of his mouth so he can. Stop. Talking. So. Much.

Connor is kind of frowning at him but in the kind of way someone looks at something they find confusing. He says, “I think those are the most words I’ve ever heard from you? Like, ever?”

Evan shrugs, “Probably. It’s just one of those days, you know?”

Connor’s eyes widen and then he laughs like Evan actually said something funny. Connor hangs his head and shakes it slowly, his hair swaying back and forth in the process and then he runs a hand through his brown hair as he lifts his face back up to give Evan a tired half-smile, “Oh, I know,” Evan catches the faintest color of blue on the edge of Connor’s jaw and then it vanishes behind his hair. 

Caught up in the wonder that he made someone laugh, Evan forgets about it because he made someone like Connor, who walks the halls with a perpetual blank slate of barely contained rage, laugh a reedy laugh that ended far too soon.

Evan is midway through a smile of his own when he belatedly realizes that Connor may mean _ him. _ That Evan is the one that has thrown Connor’s day all out of whack and that he’s the reason it’s _ just one of those days. _Those days that are exceptionally bad and unusual for their badness. His face falls without his permission.

“Hey, I didn’t mean _ you. _ It’s just one of _ those _ days because---” Connor waves his hands and twists his face as if he’s searching for the words, and when he can’t seem to find them he deflates and says, “Because of something else, ok?” 

Evan nods, only having half-listened to that because he’s thinking of all the ways he’s been an annoyance and inconvenience up until now. Why didn’t the fall work? Why didn’t he climb high enough? He’s just so tired and his arm hurts and he wants to go home except he doesn’t..

“Listen…Why don’t we go get ice cream?" Connor made the offer as if he were speaking a foreign lanuage, slow and unsure, "I think we both need it and...It might help your arm?”

Evan blinks, that’s another turn of events, maybe even more surprising than his broken arm, “I don’t know…”

“I know of a good place. We’ll go there and then I’ll take you to your place right after. How does that sound?”

Evan fidgets with the hem of his shirt and shoots a glance up at Connor. Connor has his hands stuffed in his sweater and he’s staring down at his boots that he’s tipping very slightly back and forth on. 

A small part of him wants him to say ‘no,’ but he pictures going home right now and it seems like the worst thing he can do because he’s not ready to be left alone with his thoughts again...Not so soon.

So, he says, “Ok." 

“Cool, cool,” Connor looks surprised, and then he twists on his heels and pauses to glance back at Evan, “Let’s go.”

Evan follows.

During their drive, Connor’s fingers hesitate at the radio, “You mind?”

Evan is startled out of the blankness of his thoughts and tilts his head, “No?” 

“Good, I can’t stand the quiet,” he presses the button and an unfamiliar song starts midway through a lilting voice singing: 

“O Crystal Ball, Crystal Ball / Sing a song, tell me life is----.”

“Ugh, Zoe was last using the car,” Connor interrupts the song and the CD slides out despondently, “Here,” Connor hands Evan his phone, it’s connected to the car through an aux cord, “Pick something.” 

In theory, “pick something” is a simple request to make of someone, but this is Evan and “pick something” is too broad and gives him too much room to fail because what if he chooses a song Connor doesn’t like? This is his playlist though, so Connor wouldn’t have any songs he wouldn’t like. But, what if Evan chooses one that Connor doesn’t want to hear right now? Evan starts to sweat thinking he’s taking too long to pick one so he squeezes his eyes and presses down on the screen at random.

A new song starts with a guitar riff languidly filling the silence, "On a cold wet afternoon / in a room full of emptiness---" Connor immediately straightens up with a bright face, “Awesome pick, Hansen.” Evan is pleased and repeats his blind method until they reach their destination.

After the last song ends with “The candles blew and then dissapeared / The curtains flew and then he appeared” they pull up to a small place with a quirky sign that reads: _ A la mode. _

Connor hops out of the car and tells Evan to wait out front on a bench while he gets everything. Evan shuffles to the bench and before he’s even taken in his surroundings, Connor steps out with the merry-jingle of a bell and hands Evan his cone of vanilla. 

They sit outside on a bench with the ice cream Connor paid for. Connor was right, the ice cream does help somewhat. It’s sweet and a welcome distraction from the throbbing pain of his arm and the events of earlier that day. 

They’re both quiet as they stare out at the passing cars that drive by. Only a few people pass by and sometimes the tinkle of the bell sounds when another customer enters the ice cream shop. Evan’s legs jump nervously and he steals glances at Connor who absentmindedly works on his ice cream. He wonders how they must look to the people who pass by.

Connor just looks like a regular tired teenager: slouching and dressed all in solid blacks and grays. He has on his typical kind of monochrome clothes, as if the colornessess of it all is meant to be intimidating, even his nails are painted in a smooth black. Somehow, even if the absence of color makes him look sickly, Evan can't imagine him wearing anything else. However, now that he looks closely, Connor looks _exhausted. _As Evan's mind begins to clear, he begins to notice that the ever-present bags under Connor's eyes seem much more pronounced. His hair is unbrushed and has a greasy sheen to it from being unwashed. 

And then there is Evan, with his dirty khakis and dirty blue polo from falling on the forest floor. His knees can't stay still and he must look like a different kind of mess, especially with his tear-streaked face and red, puffed-up eyes.

Just two teens, sitting on the furthest ends of the bench from each other, and silently eating their ice creams. They both slouch, as if both of them are trying to be smaller than they are. But aside from their physical appearance, a difference between them is the thousand yard stare Connor wears---the sort of glazed over eyes that suggest he's departed and gone somewhere far away.

Evan feels guilty that he’s so awkward and can’t think of anything to say that might bring him back, that might make him lift his head and say something. 

“Thank you,” Evan says, because it feels right and is the only thing he can think of to say.

Connor shrugs, and then he’s going back in motion, “Sure. Least I can do,” And Evan wants to correct him because Connor actually did a lot of things but then he awkwardly asks, “What happened anyways?” 

And it’s too soon. Literally too soon to have someone ask him that. Connor catches a drop of ice cream before it runs down to his fingers, unaware. But that’s not his fault, he doesn’t know. 

Evan pauses and pretends to be preoccupied with a section of his scoop. The ice cream feels sweet and cool in his mouth but the memory of what he was doing not all too long ago sours it completely. He carefully doesn’t meet Connor’s eyes and swallows past the block in his throat, “I fell. A branch broke.”

Connor makes a noise in sympathy, “Damn.” He believed him. Of course he believed him, he doesn’t have any reason not to. 

“Damn,” Evan repeats and scarfs down the rest of his ice cream cone, trying not to replay the memory of falling.

Later, when they are pulling up to Evan's house Connor asks, “Did it help?” When Evan doesn’t immediately pick up on what he means he clarifies, “The ice cream?”

“It did,” Evan says this even if he is still exhausted, still aching and still feeling like the Same Evan as before: shitty. The ice cream did help, somewhat. But he mostly feels that the simple experience of sitting down with someone after his “accident” is the thing that has helped the most. For what it's worth, he wasn't alone for a little over an hour. And then, most importantly, someone found him and helped him after he fell and didn't---

He doesn’t finish that thought. 

Evan awkwardly rushes out his goodbye and when he stands by his open front door, he turns to see a pale hand briefly rise in farewell. Evan has a second to raise his own but by then Connor is gone. 

******

Evan blinks out of his memories at the sound of a notification. It is another text from Zoe. 

-_ How does Friday at 8 sound? _

**Sounds great**

_ -Awesome _

_ -See you then! _

**See you :D**

A crashing exhaustion sweeps over him and he sinks into the couch. Evan switches to Jared’s messages and hovers over the keyboard, unsure of what to type.

**Where are you?**

No, Jared’s probably working a late shift.

**I’m home**

He doesn’t send that either. He can hear the "Where are you?" after that sentence. 

**Good night**

That’s pointless.

Evan doesn’t send him anything like that. He just sends him a quick text about their new Friday plans with Zoe and Alana and leaves it at that. 

Outside the apartment window, Evan sees the clouds veil the crescent moon and then it’s all blank darkness in the night sky. The city is so bright it looks like all the stars live on Earth. Like space and the city have switched places, like the world is upside down. 

Evan wonders what the air is like, right now, in some place green and foresty. He heads off to bed, thoughts swinging like a pendulum between the past and some imagined far away place where he can see the stars and the land is softly asleep and at peace. 

His thoughts swing the other way, a hand catches it, there is black nail-polish on their fingertips. He sleeps, and dreams of heterochromatic eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suicide TW: Evan attempts to commit suicide after the faux news article dated December 31, 2017 in bold. You can skip and then continue at the italic "wait." "Who's there?"  
Evan also has a mild anxiety attack, I do not go into great detail. There's only one sentence that suggests he had it. It occurs when he is in Connor's car.
> 
> Three songs I referenced:  
Crystal Ball - Keane, Like a Stone - Audioslave, (Don't Fear) The Reaper - Blue Oyster Cult.  
This chapter title and the previous one are song names from Keane, except they are not embedded in the story like the above three. 
> 
> I'm sorry for any mistakes. Please drop a comment if you liked! Thanks for reading!


	4. Ignis fatuus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check end notes for warnings.
> 
> Wow I'm sorry this is so late. It's been wack in my life right now, I'm just happy to finally post something for this.

**5 years after Connor vanished.**

Evan taps mindlessly at his keyboard. 

He doesn’t know what he wants to write about. 

His first book was a self-indulgent fantasy novel with a big emphasis on environmentalism. It was a way to release some of his so-called “climate change anxieties” into something productive. But now that he has written a story that he feels he’s already needed to tell, he has the sense that he wants to move onto something else. 

The invisible presence of an idea sits beside him day in and day out, it lays down beside him when he falls asleep, it brushes against him when he walks to his apartment door, and it tries whispering in his ear but he cannot hear it. He knows he wants to write something different but he’s not sure of what. There’s a story just out of reach that wants him to put his fingers to his keyboard and put pen to paper but he just can’t get it. 

In front of him, the TV displays the news anchor switching from the weather channel to the announcement of a missing person. It has the theatrical picture that they typically use for a missing person, the photo of police lights in mid flash and a band of yellow tape arcing across it. He turns the volume up. 

“---evening a young girl by the age of 7 was taken from in front of her house in San Bernardino. Footage from a neighbor’s surveillance camera show a dark red camry---.”

Evan listens all the way through so he can remember the details of the license plate and the little girl’s description _ Hispanic. Brown hair. Brown eyes. _In case he somehow sees that car all the way here in San Francisco. The news flicks to another story about another BART strike and he shuts the TV off with the vague sense that the presence of the idea for his story has grown a little heavier. 

It’s grown a little heavier and has the shape of the memory of his lost friend. 

It’s not that he hasn’t been able to grasp what his new idea is, it’s that he doesn’t want to accept where his writing wants to take him. To _ whom _his writing wants to take him.

Out of the corner of his eye his phone flashes and he sees he has a recent text from Jared: _ DUde.Where r u? _

He curiously picks up the phone and responds, **What?**

_ I’m at Zoe and Alana’s!! Remember we planned this??? _

_ U forgot didn’t u? _

_ Haha _

_ You’re so gonna get it when u get here _

“Shit” Evan dashes to the bedroom, checks over what he has on now: jeans and a t-shirt, he pulls on a flannel and dashes out the door, “Shit, shit, shit, shit…”

There is not much traffic on the way to Pacifica. It’s 30 minutes past 6 when he is on the road, and the drive over there turns into a blur as he rushes to Zoe and Alana’s. _ Zoe and Alana’s, ZoeandAlana’s, _the words mesh together to make a singular name for their cozy and warm place 10-15 minutes away from the beach. 

The sun has set already and it’s dark on highway 1. On one side is the mountain, Devil Slide, which is a blur of rock as he speeds past, and on the other side is all the dark expanse of the Pacific.

It’s 7 when he guiltily pulls up to _ ZoeandAlana’s. _

It’s 7:01 when he knocks on the door and hears the running footsteps of Zoe as she opens the door. He apologizes and kicks himself for being so absentminded, usually he’s better about these things. He even had a notification on his phone but somehow it was set for the next day. 

“We were going to start without you,” She says with a playful tilt to her smile.

“You should’ve.”

“We were just snacking on popcorn and watching The Good Place. It’s ok.”

He rubs his forehead and internally curses himself, “Still—“

He hears Jared yell, “Zoooeee!! if he doesn’t come in in the next 2 seconds close the door on him! I’m starving!”

Zoe rolls her eyes, “Jared, don’t yell in the house!”

“_You’re _yelling!!”

Zoe stomps away into the kitchen that is just off to the side, “‘Cause it’s _ my _house!” Evan enters and closes the door gently behind him. Like tradition, he slips off his shoes and breathes in the aromas of whatever the two of them have cooked up recently.

He walks in on Alana using the spoon to twhack it against a bowl, “The two of you need to---” She spots Evan and smiles her clean crisp smile, “Welcome, Evan. Take a seat, we’ll start dinner now.” Evan catches Alana throw Zoe and Jared (mostly Jared) a look and then turns back to the large pot of soup. 

He ducks his head and tells Alana, “Sorry I’m so late, I totally forgot, I don’t know how because we literally made the plans together...But, I’m sorry. Can I help with something?” 

Alana says, “It’s quite alright. You’re here now and that’s what matters, take a seat,” Zoe goes softly behind her and wraps a careful hug around her waist, resting her head on her shoulder. Evan sees a soft smile alight on Alana’s face and she pauses before whispering something. 

Evan awkwardly pours himself a glass of water because he still feels the need to do something. He then settles down at the table when nothing else presents itself.

Jared plays a game on his phone and briefly looks up, “Don’t I get an apology?”

“No.”

“No? That’s it? Cruel man, I could’ve died,” Evan can see the light from the game reflected on Jared’s glasses, it looks like a colorful and fast game. 

“They know the drill: hand you a cookie and you’re ok.”

“We literally did that five minutes before you arrived.” Zoe passes the bowls to Alana who then ladles the broth into them.

"It was chocolate," Jared finally puts his phone down when a bowl of soup is placed before him, “I am a simple man with simple needs.”

Within little time, they dig in. 

As they eat and share what’s going on with them, the kitchen feels like the safest and warmest place imaginable. The cabinets are the sort of mustard yellow that was popular in the 70s, and the wooden floors radiate a heaviness of holding many memories. 

Alana inherited this house from her grandmother (her _ other _grandmother), she did not pass away but went to a rest home and wished for the house to not go unattended. Luckily, Alana was planning on studying at Stanford so these things tied together seamlessly. Nearly all of the furniture of the house is from her grandmother, and here and there are little things that are distinctly Alana and Zoe’s. 

Periodically, Evan will look outside the window but it’s too dark to see anything other than their reflections which show up faintly on the glass. If someone were standing outside, he wonders how they would look to them? Perhaps they would appear as just a group of ordinary, unfamiliar faces dining around a wooden table, breaking bread, and savouring each other’s company. 

After dinner, they settle down in the small living room. 

Evan listens as Alana shares much of the accomplishments she has led at a non-profit she volunteers for on the weekend and of the many assignments she has had during grad school. She sits up straight on the edge of the couch in a posture Evan could never hope to imitate. When Zoe settles beside her, she reaches her hands out to relax Alana’s shoulders and tenderly guide her into a more relaxed position. Alana smiles gratefully at Zoe and Evan is struck with how much of a different person she is from the memory of the girl he has from high school. 

He remembers being intimidated by the sheer force of ambition and drive she exhibited in high school. Even if some part of him was intimidated by her, he couldn’t help admiring and respecting the hard work she put into excelling. None of that ambition is gone, none of that fire is gone, but it’s moments like these, when he sees her in her house or with Zoe that he’s given a glimpse of a side of Alana he never thought existed: one that could be easy.

Evan listens as Zoe shares with them the latest happenings in university. As a music major, she is having an entirely different experience from the one that Evan had had as an environmental science major. Music fills her days and the composition of it is what she has found the most joy in. 

She unearths her guitar from behind the couch, he has the impression that it is often stored in the odds and ends of the house, just wherever she feels like stowing it away. Zoe settles the guitar on her lap and shares a couple of the songs she’s been practicing. The music bubbles up into the room and seems to slip into the walls that surround them---the melodies being stowed away for the memories of the home. After she finishes, she quietly strums the guitar in little melodies as their conversation chugs on and arrives to Evan. 

Alana says, "Jared was just informing us about a new book you may be working on. What is it about?”

Jared interrupts, “I already told you, Lana, 50 Shades of Gray but trees.”

She gives him a reproachful look, her glasses are spectacularly clean and frame her eyes in an elegant way, “I thought your last book came out in a wonderfully timely fashion due to the growing climate activism happening recently.”

Zoe nods, “It was really good, Ev,” he inadvertently gives her a look and she says, “O come _ on_, are you _ still _upset about that?”

“I wasn’t upset, I was---”

Zoe raises her eyebrows, he lamely says, “Surprised.”

“_Surprised,” _She repeats.

“Yeah, surprised because the last thing I ever expected at that time was to get a letter in the mail about a book I was writing that I hadn’t sent to any publishing houses, nor had I any intention of doing so.”

Jared absently hums and checks his phone, “I think he almost died when he read that thing.” 

“Ok, I’m sorry for thinking the thing you’ve been working on for a long time was really good and had a chance at being published.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s fine,” he leans and catches her eye, hoping that she’ll know that he really appreciated what she did, there’s really no way he can repay her for that, “It’s fine, thank you.” 

They ask when they are going to read the next one and he tells them it’s highly unlikely he’ll make another.

He explains, “I can’t think of anything,” Plus, Evan doesn’t really want to get too into detail about his current Writer’s Block and the direction his new book may be going in, “Besides, I didn’t really want to keep writing and have that be my job. I want to go into research or something. You know, have my degree actually mean something.”

Alana has a considering look to her face, “That would make sense. Novelist careers very rarely take flight, no offense Evan. Writing books would likely not generate a steady income,” She smiles approvingly, “It’s very good of you to have considered this.”

Zoe looks like she can’t believe what Alana said, flabbergasted she sputters, “But...But…Are you sure? I thought you were a really good writer.” 

Everyone’s looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer he doesn’t know how to give, and an answer he is unsure he even knows himself. He tries to change the subject, “What song is that you’re playing? I think I recognize the melody.”

Zoe looks down at her hands, as if just noticing she was strumming a guitar in her lap, “Oh, it’s—-“ she plucks the melody again and then nods, “It was from Question. A Moody Blues song. We just learned that one in my History of Modern Rock class.”

She starts playing a different song significantly louder and stronger, and she sings. She dons her subtle faraway smile that, for a second, whips him back in time to high school, “I lost my heart, I buried it too deep / Under the iron sea.”

Everyone falls silent and simply watches Zoe sing. Jared puts his phone down, Evan didn’t even notice he had it on, he catches the fastest sign of a received text and then nothing. 

Zoe tilts her face a certain way and his breath hitches when, for a second, the light strikes the bridge of her nose and line of her jaw in mirror-image of Connor. 

She suddenly slows the temp of the song and then strums it light and slow, “Oh, crystal ball, crystal ball, / Save us all, tell me life is beautiful,” Alana sighs and rests her head on her hand as she only has eyes for Zoe and her sweet lilting voice.

Evan tries looking for another moment where he might see something of Connor in Zoe’s manner—-but, he doesn’t. They clap and they urge her into doing another. She shifts and turns to Evan, “Come on, Evan. You sing too—-“

“Ha.ha. No.”

“I’ve heard you. You sing quietly under your breath in the car.”

“No, I don’t…”

“I know I‘ve heard you. I also remember someone telling me.” She finishes and then seems to realize what she said with a furrow in her brows.

Evan turns to Jared. And Jared looks up from his phone, “What? It wasn’t me. I’ve never heard you sing.”

“My brother. He told me.” Zoe says, her face going thin as an eggshell. Alana hums and tentatively reaches for Zoe, Zoe accepts her hand and squeezes it tight.

There’s an awkward silence.

Evan fidgets, “What song did you want to sing together?”

Zoe strums her guitar absent-mindedly, one single note weakly rises and then Zoe drags her guitar case towards her. She quietly puts it away and Evan feels like the worst. The frailty of her face carefully gets put away and she reaches for the remote, “What movie should we watch?”

********

**A month after Connor vanished. **

He can’t believe he let Jared talk him into this. 

Heidi is home (of all days), so she is forced to bear witness to the nervous pacing and sweating taking place through every square centimeter of their place. He checks his phone, it’s 10 minutes past when Jared said he’d be here. Maybe he forgot to pick Evan up? Maybe he forgot that he talked Evan into going to the stupid, stupid, _ stupid _party that Evan doesn’t even want to go to not after---

He just doesn’t want to go and if what happened a month ago hadn’t happened he’d _ still _not want to go. 

When Evan makes his speedy round through his room he catches a look at himself in the mirror. God, he looks like a mess. He hasn’t been sleeping full nights for a while and when he does get sleep it’s for a handful of hours at a time. Dark bags are prominent beneath his eyes and his skin has the sallow look of not eating. He’s been going to his therapy sessions more frequently after Connor but he gets the feeling that his therapist knows that he is not saying everything. 

Heidi sits on the couch and flips through different TV channels, “Honey, you’re just going to Jared’s. Can you quit pacing? It’s making me tense.”

Evan forces himself to pause for a second, he takes a deep breath but it doesn’t work to calm him. He keeps pacing, “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Heidi starts to look concerned, “What’s wrong? Are you ok?”

“No, nothing’s wrong!” Heidi’s eyebrows raise. Her mouth firms into a look of doubt. 

Evan says, “I’m just---” He jumps when he hears a car horn blare.

Heidi’s brow furrows, “Where did you say you two were going again?”

“Um…” Evan awkwardly fumbles for the door, he hears the car horn blare again, “Sorry, mom. I’ll text-you-gotta-go.”

When Evan slides in the car, Jared gives him a once over, “Did you change at all after school yesterday? That’s like the same exact outfit.”

Evan tells him he did, in fact, change, but it falls on deaf ears as Jared starts driving. 

Evan stares out the window as they leave the neighborhood. 

As they leave, the sun begins to set, and the area becomes flushed with shadows. Some houses still have their holiday lights on, and their brightness enhances the darkness of the unlit houses that are blank as ghosts. 

Suddenly, they arrive at the party. They park several houses down from the house they are supposed to go to and Evan spots someone vaguely familiar walk past. He sinks in his seat and curses Jared for bringing him here, “Can’t I just go home?”

“_No. _It’ll blow my cover,” Jared’s checking himself in his driver’s mirror and swipes a hand through his gelled hair, patting it down gently, he doesn’t look at Evan as he says “Both our parents think we’re going out bowling or something, you have to come with. We already talked about this.”

“I know…” Evan thinks quickly, “Could you drop me off at a Starbucks or something? The library? I-I can wait for you there.”

“Dude, I’m not leaving till way past midnight. What will you do then? Walk home? We’re already like 40 minutes away from your place.”

“Yeah…But my mom can pick me up.”

“How would we explain why I didn’t just drive you back myself?”

Evan falls silent.

Jared finally looks at him with a pointed raise of his brows, “Exactly.”

The party is just as horrible as Evan imagined. 

There are people.

People _ Everywhere. _People crowded in the living room, people lining the steps of the house, people moving and then disappearing behind other people. It smells like alcohol, something bitter and earthy, and of sweat and perfume. A deep base from some unidentifiable source of music rattles the house, and Evan doesn’t think he’s ever encountered a more uninviting place.

They barely take two steps inside when Jared rapidly turns around and says, “No, no, no, no. We’re _ not _ doing this tonight. You. Following me around like a lost duckling. Nuh-uh. Tonight, we don’t know each other,” he pauses and waves to someone before saying, “You’re gonna go that way, and I’m going over there. Comprende?”

“But—-“

“No buts! This is happening,” Jared runs over to someone he knows and then disappears. 

Evan awkwardly stands at the entrance of the place feeling like an astronaut who got detached from their space shuttle. He isn't sure what he was expecting from Jared, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to get abandoned so soon and so fast. Someone edges past him and enters the fray before him with hands thrown up. Someone shouts when they see them and they get swallowed by the crowd.

In vain, he quickly scans if he sees anyone recognizable but it’s like he walked straight into a nightmare.

It’s cold out but it’s a much better option than being inside. 

Evan makes his way to the backyard. Sitting against the wall, he takes a deep breath and peers up at the night sky. No one else is outside except for a handful of people who pass around a joint and eye him narrowly from their corner of the backyard. At least they’re quieter than what’s inside. 

The air has that frigid stillness that comes before rainfall. Evan didn’t bring a jacket for this sort of weather. He won’t be able to stay out here long but he’ll stick it out until his hands grow numb and it gets unbearable. 

He thinks a drop of water falls on his nose but he’s unsure if it was real. 

The house buzzes with music and the low hum of people’s voices---all of it, sounding like a wasps nest Evan stumbled upon. He saw it during a hike through a park he visited in the summer; an ugly dead-looking thing on the floor, an inch away from his foot, and within one heartbeat and the next, he was far far away. 

He told Connor about it. Connor had laughed and said that that’s why he’s only been camping for an hour and a half. 

For the briefest of seconds, a second that hurts just as fast and quick as a shot, Evan wonders what it would be like if Connor were with him at that moment. 

Someone laughs loudly and Evan jumps to his feet and rushes inside, away from his thoughts.

Someone throws him a look for his abrupt entrance inside the house and he quickly gets away.

Evan blindly moves forward and tries to keep his head low, careful not to bump into anybody in the dim lighting but sometimes people bump into _ him _ and he apologizes for _ them. _Evan starts to wonder if he can ask Jared for his car keys, he could just wait in his car until he’s done. That could work. He could be on his phone and listen to soothing things, things that aren’t barks of laughter, burps and guffaws. 

He ends up at the table with all the drinks on it and quickly tosses one back. The alcohol, his first taste of alcohol, burns down his throat and he coughs furiously. Immediately, he thinks that that was a bad idea and dreads what that sole drink is going to do with his head. 

“What the Hell?” Jared is suddenly standing next to him and holds a solo cup himself, “Did I just see what I think I just saw?”

“I don’t know. Did you, Jared? Should I do it again and demonstrate slower?” His words are sharp, even to Evan’s ears but his neck feels very tight and hot. 

Jared raises his eyebrows, shock flaring in his eyes for a second before vanishing, he smirks, “Dude, do whatever. I don’t care.”

“Fine.”

“_Fine.” _

Jared seems to see someone he knows over Evan’s shoulder and waves, “Look, I don’t know what’s with you but, right now, we’re strangers again,” He vanishes amongst the crowd of people.

A light flickers and _ pops! _There are sequels and laughter by the source of it but Evan’s attention is soon diverted to something else. Because that’s when he sees it. 

Sees her. 

It’s Zoe Murphy and she’s stumbling up the stairs with some guy he’s never seen before. 

Honestly, Evan doesn’t know very many people but, regardless, the guy looks like he’s having significantly less trouble going up the stairs. 

Before he even realizes what he’s doing he follows. He crams his way past a group of people huddled around some sort of drinking tube and tries not to lose sight of Zoe and the stranger through the thick blobs of people. 

He maneuvers around the people who stare at the blown light fixture on the stairwell and once he makes his way upstairs he has a brief moment of panic---he can’t see them anywhere in the hall. The lights are dim and there are pairs of people who barely give him a side eye as they are more busy making out with their partners. 

He sees a door gently click shut at the end of the hall and approaches it. Evan quickly turns the handle and stumbles in. 

An unfamiliar voice sputters, “What the fuck? Who the fuck are you?”

Zoe and the random guy stand inches apart and while the guy looks considerably less than pleased to see Evan standing there, Zoe just looks more shocked and confused if anything. 

“I was um--uh?” Evan starts to sweat. 

“Listen man, can you just leave? We were right in the middle of something,” He gestures at the two of them in the dark. 

Evan fumbles for the light and flicks it on and the guy hisses, “Bro, what are you doing?” He’s wearing basketball shorts paired with a shirt depicting a mountain---now, _ this _ guy doesn’t look like he changed his clothes since yesterday.

In a weird way, it’s truly an odd contrast to Zoe’s simple black dress but Evan shouldn’t be thinking about all this now.

He needs to think fast. He says the first thing he can think of, “You’re shirt! It says it’s Glacier Park but that mountain is in Yosemite. It’s called Half Dome, Oh man, whoever made that shirt really didn’t know what they were talking about. That’s a shame because it looks like a nice shirt. Good color.”

“Are you high? What the fuck are you talking about?” The guy looks far too red in the face, he’s getting frustrated. 

Evan needs to do something else...He feigns surprise at seeing Zoe, “Ummm Zoe? Zoe, right?”

Zoe nods and then stills as if confused, “Yeah? How do you know my name?”

“Someone is looking for you. Yeah, someone is looking for you and you need to go down,” She doesn’t move, “Right now. Like, right now, right now.”

Zoe steps away from the guy, “But who---?” And then her face rapidly pales and turns a shade of green, “Hmmph, I think I’m gonna be sick…” She dashes out the door. 

“Ugh, what a buzz kill” The guy stomps past Evan and shoves him, “Thanks a lot, asshat.”

Evan jumps out into the hall and sees harried looking person leaving the bathroom with sounds of someone throwing up behind them. 

Zoe convuls over the toilet and Evan nervously pulls her hair back. She grips the toilet bowl tightly, her arms trembling. She retches and it’s one of, if not _ the _most horrible sounds he’s heard because, intermingled with the retching, she sobs. His heart twists painfully for her.

Finally, it stops. Zoe groans and keeps her head down, breathing heavily and shaking terribly. 

“Are---are you ok?”

Zoe doesn’t respond.

“Do you want water?”

She still doesn’t say anything except for a dry cough. Despite not wanting to leave her alone he runs down the stairs and dashes into the kitchen at the fastest speed he has ever run. 

When he returns the door has been shut. He tries the handle. It won’t budge.

Zoe croaks from inside, “Go away!” 

“It’s me, the guy from earlier? I came back, I brought water.”

A pause. The door cracks open the slightest bit and he blinks down at a single watery-red eye that stares up at him. He brings the cup up and the door slowly opens more fully. 

They end up sitting across from each other on the floor of the bathroom, their legs lying parallel to each other. The bathroom is small and bright and blue with little decals of sea shells lining the walls. 

Zoe accepts the glass of water and takes little sips of it, “Someone tried to get in earlier.” The words are broken and dry, her hair hangs limply down her face. 

“Oh…” Evan is not sure what to do. 

“Who are you?” 

Her gaze is too strong, Evan looks down at nothing and says, “Evan, Evan Hansen.”

They lapse into silence, only broken up by the sound of footsteps outside the bathroom and the occasional turn of the handle and knock. 

“I’m Zoe, as if you don’t already know,” She presses a finger to her scalp and squeezes her eyes shut, “Who was trying to find me anyway?”

“No one,” Evan admits.

“Then why---?”

He tells her how he saw her going up with someone significantly more inebriated and older and he wanted to make sure she was ok.

She crosses her arms, “I would’ve been fine.”

“How old are you? You’re not---you shouldn’t be here...”

Zoe sputters, “Half the people out there shouldn’t be here!”

“I guess, I’m sorry.” Maybe he really is in the wrong? Was it right for him to do that? She seems really upset. Evan helplessly looks at her and decides that maybe it would be best if he left. He begins to get up but Zoe quickly reaches for him and abortively stops. 

Zoe places her glass down and covers her face, “Christ, I don’t know what I’m doing. _ Fuck_.”

They enter another bout of silence that weighs heavily where Zoe hides behind her hands. If Evan could see the weight on Zoe’s shoulders, it would come off as streaks of silent lightning. “Are you---?”

“I’m not.” The words are strained and brittle, “I’m not ok,” And then it’s like the floodgate words opened and she spills out, “My brother disappeared. He’s gone,” Her breath hitches and she starts crying.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t say sorry, it’s not your fault,” Evan flinches, “This--this is the first time I’ve cried since he’s left. I’m in the goddamn bathroom at some stranger’s party after I threw up because anything was better than being at home.”

“I’m sorry…”

Zoe sob-laughs and scrubs her eyes with her fists, “You say sorry a lot, you know that?”

“Sorry…”

Zoe smiles painfully and then sighs a deep sigh, “I really don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know why I came here. I just thought it’d be a good distraction but honestly it’s been very sucky.”

“To be honest, the party is kind of sucky,” Evan says with sympathy.

She nods furiously, “The music is half-way decent but the beer tastes a lot more like gasoline than I thought, it’s pretty nasty.”

Evan remembers the taste of that beer burning down his throat, not a good memory.

Zoe takes a sip of water. He notices that her black dress has thick lacing of flowers by the collar, they are almost invisible. Her cheeks have streaks of black from her mascara falling with her tears, and with a start, he also notes her fingernails are painted black. That observation kind of wants to make him cry. 

“Someone—actually, more than a couple of people have asked me about Connor. They don’t seem to understand that I don’t know anything. It’s been like this even outside of the party, they’ll talk about him as if he’s some kind of mystery they heard about on TV,” Zoe picks at the paint on the sink, and distractedly says, “I can’t seem to go anywhere without hearing about him. He’s gone, but not really.”

A weighty pause settles between them with only the scratching of her fingers on the wood, she blinks, “I don’t know why I told you all that. I’m sorry.”

Evan’s heart races and he decides to tell her, it’s like he’s staring at himself from above, “I knew---know your brother.”

Zoe seems surprised for a second and then obviously comes to a conclusion, “Yeah, everyone did. What did he do to you?”

“No, he didn’t do anything to me. We were...friends.”

“Friends?”

He nods. 

“Since when? How come I never saw you?”

“Since the summer. He never wanted me to go to your house.”

“Hmm,” Zoe stays silent and stares at the same spot between their shoes, “He’s probably why you knew my name, right? I can’t imagine what he told you about me. Or if he said anything at all.”

“No, he did! He actually said a—a lot of nice things about you!”

Zoe shakes her head, “you don’t have to say that just because—“

“But he did!” Evan hikes his shoulders up to his ears and impulsively tugs at his fingers, “Sorry, um, he told me how you---you play guitar and you play it really well! And that you ice skate, and can identify a lot of constellations, and that you draw stars on the cuffs of your jeans,” he refuses to look Zoe in the eye in fear of the expression she may be wearing, “He said that you are very strong, the strongest person he knows and that your smile can brighten anything.” 

“He...He said that?”

Evan can’t believe he just did that. His heart races at the sheer amount of half-truths he made just then and wishes he could take some back. Wishes he could grab the words that he spew out and lie between their feet, wishes he could eat them all up so that that _ look _ on Zoe’s face would disappear.

Someone bumps into the door at Evan’s back and he jumps, “Yes,” Keep it simple, don’t say anything else. He wants to make her feel better. 

“When? Why?”

“I don’t know when. Just sometimes he’d just share those things.”

In all those times Evan imagined talking to Zoe, he thought he would feel a lot happier than he does right now.

He can't look away from her this time. She's staring at him like he's a lifeline, like he's something better than he really is, “I didn’t think he... noticed? Or even cared…”

“Well, he did. He does,” he corrects himself. Connor may still be alive. He _ is _still alive, has to be.

“I guess he did.”

Evan awkwardly stays quiet as Zoe slowly rises to her feet. She turns the faucet and splashes water on her face. They grab a towel from inside the cupboard beneath the sink and she burrows her face in it and sighs. When she pulls the towel down she looks older and has a durable edge to her jaw that wasn't there before. 

Zoe is halfway out the door when she doesn’t quite look back at him but quietly asks, “Did he say anything else?’

"Um," What should he say?

She turns and raises her hand plactaingly with a sad smile, "It's ok, you don't have to---"

Without hesitation he says, “He loved you.”

Zoe hitches her breath and in a slightly higher-pitched voice says, “Well, thanks, Evan. See you around,” She leaves before he can say anything.

********

**5 years after.**

A noise wakes him up. 

It’s a noise he can’t identify easily in the dark but he feels no urge to fall back into slumber. 

He slides out of the guest bed. Jared sleeps quietly with a soft snore here and there. He doesn’t wake up when Evan cracks the door to the guest room open and silently makes his way to the kitchen. 

He’s surprised when he enters the dark kitchen to see Zoe leaning against the counter with her phone in hand. 

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“I just woke up.”

Zoe reaches behind her for a mug and sips it, “I couldn’t. It happens sometimes,” She shrugs and tiredly puts her phone away and switches the light above the stove on. It casts a dim light into the kitchen and makes the space appear even smaller. 

“I’ve been having more dreams of him.”

Evan doesn’t need her to clarify of whom. 

“The dreams...They’re so strange. Sometimes I’ll dream of weird moments where it’s like I see him doing something, something ordinary and normal, like make a cup of coffee or drawing at a desk somewhere...He’s alive in those and then I’ll forget he’s gone. Those are worse than the dreams where I see him dead somewhere. But they feel so right.”

“Which ones?”

“The ones where he’s alive.”

“Is-is that what’s strange?”

“Yes,” Zoe admits.

“I’ve had to go see my therapist again because I felt myself spiraling. I was starting to feel a little better now and then all of a sudden these dreams started happening and it’s driving me crazy. You know, the other day I saw these drawings this artist was putting up on Instagram and I thought they looked so much like his,” Zoe scrolls through her phone rapidly and then lifts it up to Evan’s face. 

He takes the phone and scrolls down the artist’s work. There are broad, bold strokes of pencil and pen drawings. All of them of faces intermixed with drawings of cityscapes and ordinary objects. 

He tries to say, “It looks similar,” but it comes out flat.

Zoe deflates ever so slightly and accepts her phone back, “Silly, right? Sometimes I wish I’d get a call and that they’d tell me they found his body. At least then we’d finally know what happened to him,” Zoe stares blankly out the window, unaware of the grief Evan felt at the thought of that. 

“Anyways, what’s happening with you and Jared?”

Evan unintentionally flinches, “What? Me and Jared? Nothing. Nothing is happening. Nothing is wrong.”

"I didn't mean anything bad by that...Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have asked that,” Zoe apologetically winces. 

“No, you’re fine. It’s just---” Evan leans against the counter and covers his face as he tells her of his plans to propose. He doesn’t look at her once but when he’s finished she has a look of careful neutrality. Almost too careful, “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

He doesn’t believe it.

She gives in, “Look, I don’t want to step in where I shouldn’t but..Have you _ really _thought about it? Is this something you really want to do?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? And I have thought of this, _ thoroughly. _So much so, that it’s one of the things that keeps me up at night.”

“Okay, hear me out, I just have to ask ‘cause I’m your friend: are you sure this is something Jared would want?”

“Yes...I think so, that’s better than thinking ‘no,’ right? Because I do think so, I think he would…” He trails off and belatedly realizes his heart is beating fast, “Say yes, that is.”

Zoe can either be smiling approvingly or sadly at him, Evan dearly hopes its the former. She pats him on the shoulder, “Okay, Evan. Maybe sit on it, try and bring it up to Jared at some point? I know Lana has dropped the idea a couple times and we’ve discussed it…”

“Wait, really!? That’s wonderful!”

“Yeah,” Zoe smiles a sweet private smile into her mug, “We’ll see. For now, let’s talk about something else. Maybe you can give me some spoilers for your next book? I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“You know I can’t do that. It’s nowhere near written.”

“Oh, sure.”

They talk and talk and talk. It feels like they haven’t done so in so long. Zoe is telling him about a classroom scandal when she glances out the window and does a double take, “Look Ev, a sunrise.”

Indeed, there is a sunrise. Or at least the beginnings of one at the ocean’s horizon. The sky lightens ever so slightly into a dusty blue and then grows softer as the shining red disk begins to rise. They silently stare at it until the sun fully emerges and rests atop the horizon, still making the sky blush in its wake. 

Zoe stretches and yawns, “How about we go get at least one hour of sleep?”

Evan yawns as well and says, “Sure, at least then I’ll have had 4 hours of sleep instead of 3.”

“Heh, nevermind,” Zoe looks fondly up at Alana’s emergence, “Babe, what are you doing up?”

Alana sleepily shuffles into the living room where he and Zoe were sitting, “You weren’t there.”

“Well I’m going back now.”

“Ok,” Alana shuffles away.

“She’s not a morning person, contrary to what some people may believe.”

Alana reemerges, “Also, g’morning Evan,” She yawns, “Ok, I’ll be---” And she’s gone again.

He and Zoe exchange amused glances and then get up.

********

Evan wakes up to the sound and smells of something cooking and an empty bed. 

He follows his nose to the kitchen and sees Jared sitting at the table nursing a glass of OJ. Alana and Zoe are working the kitchen again, like a unit. They throw him a good morning and then focus on the menagerie of things they have getting heated up and sizzling.

“Dude, you look like a fucking wreck. Did you fight your sleep paralysis demon last night?”

“Didn’t sleep,” Evan collapses in the chair next to him. He twitches because he wants to help and feels weird just sitting there, “You don’t want help?”

“Nope!” / “No, thank you.” They say at the same time. 

Breakfast is mostly a quiet affair until Alana happens to ask: “Any big plans?”

And then it’s no longer a calm moment for Evan when Jared obliviously sips loudly from his coffee and simply states, “Europe.” 

Evan chokes on his toast. 

Zoe asks, “Europe?”

“Hell yeah, I wanna go sometime in the summer for like a month,” Jared eagerly accepts a piece of bacon Alana offers him. Unaware to Evan incredulously staring at him

Zoe eyes the both of them, “You are both going, right?”

Evan finally speaks, “No, I mean, yes? I don’t know...This is the first time you’ve mentioned it…” That last bit he says more quietly and Jared sends him an unreadable glance that quickly turns to nonchalance. 

“Really? I thought I told you. I guess I’ve been meaning to for so long I thought I had.”

“Ok. We’ll um talk about this later.”

“Fine by me.”

Zoe coughs and then Alana begins describing what she will have to do that day at her nonprofit but Evan stops listening.

********

Before returning to their apartment Evan makes a detour to the beach. He takes an hour long drive down south, picks up a banana at a gas station, and then rests on a quiet beach. The waves are steel and rise and fall heavily, like metal. It’s winter and the weather is frigid. Only two other people are out there with Evan and they all mind their own business. 

Evan slips off his shoes and socks and lets a wave rush up his ankles. _ COLD! _

The ocean water came from Alaska, bringing it’s frost. When he thinks of Alaska he thinks of thick, dense pine trees. They are a deep deep green, almost black, and the snow that flurries about them looks weak in comparison. But the snow falls and falls and falls and builds and builds and builds: rising, until the ground is white and the trees accept the blankness of snow. But the trees still look dark, like they are deep and unknowable. Makes him wonder what hides in there.

And then he remembers part of the ocean water swelling up his calfs also comes up from the deep ocean. 

Cold.

********

It’s early evening when Evan returns home. He’s actually pretty hungry and eats more than a granola bar for once. He also brings out a bottle of red wine he had stowed away for a special occasion (as people do in TV) and he pops it for a room full of nobody. 

It’s when he’s on his second glass of wine and staring out the window that he notices a tiny red slip of paper set innocently on the window sill. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for:  
Underage drinking.  
Zoe enters a dubious situation due to drinking but nothing goes too far because she and the other guy are interrupted. Another warning for throwing up. Zoe is sick for a couple sentences. If you'd like you can stop reading after "thanks a lot, asshat." and start up again on the sentence starting with "Finally."  
***  
I know Zoe didn't seem really drunk. I realize that now as I am typing this...Oopsie  
I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment if you did, they literally fuel my will to write. I mean, I'll write anyways, but I'll probably get things done a lot faster. Just let me know what you like so far, that'll be very nice. X)  
Also, i recommend totally checking out Question by Moody Blues, it's beautiful. (if u do, look up the live version from 1970 on Youtube).  
Hope you all have a happy holidays!!


	5. Neptune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Essential Day, is it actually real? Is it possible to have more than one? If it were up to Evan, he would already have had quite a few.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!!

**5 years after Connor vanished.**

Essential Day.

He stopped believing in this little red scrap of paper when years and years passed and the day never once gave him any sense that it was of particular essentialness. 

It used to raise his anxieties, thinking about the days leading up to his Essential Day. He’d wonder if it was the sort of day he’d have to go buy 5 lotto tickets, or stay in the house, or watch out for falling pianos. If it’s an essential day couldn’t it mean that it could be negative? What if he had to be careful that day, September 25th? What if it was essential for his health or for the well-being of a stranger? And just how important is this day? Could it be that he’d be outside and help an old lady cross the street and if he hadn’t done that she would’ve died? What is it? 

Did it already pass without him realizing?

He doesn’t know and he hasn’t cared for a long time. Or at least, he’s tried telling himself he doesn’t care. 

Evan stares out the window, wine glass in hand and presses his empty hand against the window. Staring at it, and pressing and pressing, at once feeling the strength and the delicacy of the glass. If the glass weren’t there he’d be flying out that window and shooting to the ground. He doesn’t press too hard, though. Just enough to imagine.

He picks up the familiar little rectangle and twirls it between his fingers. Somehow, through all these years, this thing hasn’t gotten a little dented or soft around the edges. 

His preoccupation with the paper is not so much that none of the days that have passed have not seemed essential enough. It’s that, there are many days that have felt essential. 

Such as the day he met Connor. If it were up to Evan he would’ve thought that that would have been his Essential day. Privately, in his heart of hearts, it _ is _an Essential Day. 

Who’s to say he can’t have more than one? So, there’s one. 

And then there’s _ that _ day. Even if it hurts, _ God does it hurt, _it’s an essential day.

In a way, the day he got this paper was an essential day…

Evan lays down on the couch, meaning to watch a movie on the TV but he slips into a nap.

******

**5 months before Connor vanished.**

Through a thick plume of smoke, Connor simply says, “Hansen,” and takes another drag of his cigarette. The butt of it flares a bright orange as he breathes it in. His shoulders fall with his next smoky exhale which he directs away from Evan. 

It’s the night after Evan fell and he’s been outside, walking in his pajamas, because he had a nightmare so terrible he sat up gasping for breath and stumbling out of bed with the _ need _to get more air. He had slipped on his sweater, pulled on his shoes, grabbed the keys to the house and ran outside like something awful was hot on his heels. 

“Want one?” Connor flips the top of the pack of cigarettes open, offering them to Evan. 

Evan shakes his head, “No, thank you.”

“Thought so,” Connor says, but not in a bad way, just in a way that someone might confirm the weather. 

Evan still can’t shake away the feeling he was trying to get away from. There was something about falling that jolted him awake. He doesn’t remember much else. Just falling. 

However, the unusualness of encountering Connor on this bridge kind of takes precedence over his restless thoughts. 

Evan wonders if he should edge away and leave Connor alone. Maybe Connor comes here to unwind? 

Evan is certainly getting that air about the hunched over boy. Connor looks loose next to him in his grey and black attire. Maybe it’s because of the cigarettes? Maybe he’s burning away whatever makes him feel heavy by blowing it away in plumes of smoke. 

Evan has the idea that Connor would spend whole night just sitting there on the bridge, staring out at the oily black river quietly passing beneath them. But then, Connor interrupts Evan’s thoughts “How’s the arm?”

“Still broken,” Evan grimaces down at it, “But less painful when I move it this way,” Evan slowly raises it to the side and sucks in a breath at the pain that thunders down his broken arm. He quickly returns it down into the position it was in before and the pain numbs away.

“Really?” Connor raises his brows, half-amused but mostly in sympathy.

“Not really,” Evan admits with a small awkward laugh. 

He vaguely considers joining Connor on the bridge’s ledge. The night is gentle with a thin summer coolness and it would be nice to sit beside Connor on the ledge. Maybe kick his legs out as well and watch the snail-crawl passage of the stars. 

But then he pictures himself making a scene to get up there with a busted arm and solidly denies that thought. 

Connor takes one last drag of his cigarette and then snuffs it out. He sighs and the smoke rises into the night sky, a dusty sort of gray before disappearing as fast it materialized. 

“Do you come here often?”

Connor cocks his head to the side, “Hansen, was that a pick up line?” he chews on his smile, obviously trying not to laugh.

Evan blinks and thinks back on what he just asked and then blushes furiously, “Wah—nooo, no it wasn’t. I mean I didn't mean it to be. That-wasn’t-my-intention-unless—.”

“Hey, it’s fine, I know that wasn’t it,” Connor chuckles, thin shoulders shaking gently, “And to answer your question, nope. First time at this particular spot,” Behind them, a car passes by, and they both stare at it until it disappears around a bend in the road.

“So, what are you doing out here?” Connor’s eyes catch the light from above them, one eye a light blue pool, and the other an earthy brown. Evan wonders what the odds are for someone to have such eyes. It’s like nature couldn’t decide what color eyes to give Connor so it gave him both. 

Evan leans against the ledge, tearing his eyes away from Connor’s, “I needed air.” He pretends to absent-mindedly flick a pebble off the bridge, “As if I didn’t get enough of it yesterday.” 

Evan hears Connor make a quick intake of air and he looks at him.

Connor’s face is twisted up in surprise, “Wow, I don’t know if I should laugh or...That’s actually pretty fucking sad, dude.”

“You’re welcome to laugh, it’s really not that sad.”

“Falling out of a tree isn’t sad?”

Evan doesn’t say anything.

Another car passes behind them, Evan listens to the sound of it passing as Connor watches it go. They hang in a silence that is not quite pure as the sound of unseen traffic continues somewhere in the distance. The crickets chirp.

Evan considers his quiet companion. He says, “Thank you for helping me yesterday.”

Connor shrugs, “Sure.” 

“So, what are you doing here?”

Connor looks at him from the corner of his eye, “Getting air too,” He kicks his leg out again and leaves it suspended in front of him, his other leg joins it and before they go crashing back down. Connor’s eyes fall on Evan’s cast, “Can I sign your cast?”

That was the last thing Evan expected to hear, and his head spins a little in his confusion. After wearing the cast for 24 hours, Evan was deeply under the impression that no one would ever sign it and he had tried not to get his hopes up that someone might. After all, he and Connor practically spent the whole day together yesterday and Connor never offered nor did Evan get the guts to ask. He doesn't really mean to but he asks, "Why?"

Connor narrows his eyes, "Do you not want me to sign it or something?"

Evan's eyes widen, "No! It's just that...it was unexpected is all," he chews his lip, hoping that Connor understands that he meant no offense. 

"Unexpected? I know I can be an asshole sometimes but I'm not an uncivilized, you know?"

"I know that," Evan started to feel terribly guilt for making him feel like Evan was insulting him, "I just didn't think---I just didn't think anyone would offer," Evan decides to say honestly. 

Connor subtly relaxes, "Well, here I am offering," he stretches his hand out and Evan notes he has long fingers that are oddly pretty, "Got a Sharpie? Don't really feel like using blood today."

“Oh, um, sure,” Evan checks his pockets but his Sharpie is probably in his other sweater, “I don’t have a marker.”

Connor checks his pockets and comes up empty, “Crap, got nothing.”

Evan tries not to feel too disappointed. He's probably not going to see Connor until school starts again, so there goes Evan's one chance to have his cast signed. It's not something he desperately wants per say, but it'd be kind of nice to just look down and spot at least one signature from someone. Maybe it doesn't mean that they _care_ about Evan, but at least that one signature means that they acknowledge Evan's existence.

Evan is deep in thought when Connor suddenly spots something past Evan’s shoulder and points, “Hey, look! A shooting star.”

When Evan looked it was gone. His eyes jumped from each visible star to the other but to no avail. The night sky stared blankly back at him.

Evan meets eyes rounded in an almost child-like surprise. “Did you see?” Connor barely masks his surprise.

Evan is about to say he didn’t but decides against it for some reason, “Yeah! I did.” He feels a smile tug at his mouth because of the wonder evident on Connor’s expression. 

Connor almost glows as he tilts his head back and looks up at the sky, searching for another. 

Evan gives another cursory look at the sky but he’s more caught up in seeing Connor this way, he’s never seen him so _ present _ before, “Did you---did you make a wish?”

Connor freezes, “No, I didn’t see the point.” He looks down at the river, a gravity of weight pulling down at his brows, darkening his face, “What I want is impossible.” He reaches for his pack and lights another cigarette. A pause. “Did you?”

“No,” Evan answers honestly, caught off guard by Connor’s sudden change. 

“Yours is impossible too?”

“No,” Connor doesn’t quite look at him but he tilts his head as if to show he’s interested in hearing Evan. Without someone looking at him, it’s easier to speak. He looks at the trees way off in the distance and says, “It’s just that there’s too much that I want. How can I choose?”

“What like a car or a new phone or something?”

“I guess,” it doesn't hurt to have Connor think Evan's dreams are material-like things rather than bigger more impossible things like death and non-existence. 

Connor’s done with speaking because they stay out there for a long time, without either of them saying a word. Evan doesn’t know how long they inhabit a bubble of silence but it’s nice. Connor stays perched on his spot on the bridge and Evan leans against the banister, listening to the sounds of the water moving beneath them ever so faintly. 

Evan hears the sound of a dog barking and in that moment, it occurs to him that he should probably be heading home. Heidi should be getting off her night shift soon. It’s not like she checks his room to see if he’s there, but she’d definitely hear the sound of him coming in at 1 a.m.

“I-I should go.”

“Need a ride?” 

“I’m fine, thanks. It’s not far.”

Connor leans back on his hands and nods, “I think I’m going to stay here for a while longer.”

Evan gets a queasy feeling about that and has the insane image of Connor jumping off when Evan’s gone. He throws that idea off him, he’s probably projecting his own suicidal thoughts on Connor---but, it’s still a little scary, 

Connor must mistake Evan’s sudden reluctance to leave for weariness of walking through the dark, “Listen, what’s your number? You can text me when you get home? Or I could drive you.”

“It’s really not far at all, I'll walk." He pulls out his phone and recieves Connor's number. 

That night when Evan gets home he texts Connor:

**Hi it’s Evan**

**I’m home thanks**

Evan chews on his lip with this next one: **U can text me when you get home too**

It takes a while for Connor to respond but he sends Evan:

_ Ok _

_ I’m home _

******

Within the days that follow, neither of them hear from the other. Evan doesn’t know what he would send Connor. Just ‘hi?’ and that’s it? What would he say after? I’m watching cartoons and eating cereal at 1 p.m.? No, he can’t do that. He doesn’t do that with Jared, his best---no, his _ family _ friend---but then again, he and Jared don’t text much if at all. Except for those times when Jared accidentally texts him instead of his other friends. 

The following months up until school seem bleak. He can’t go back to his position as Jr. Park Ranger and there’s not much else for him to do besides scholarship essays. He’s so bored, there's only so many scholarship essays one can work on before a gag-reflex builds up at the thought of doing another. It’s only been three days since he broke his arm and he’s not looking forward to all the days after. 

It’s hot out, but Evan wants to walk outside. So, he does.

He ends up at a gasoline store, farther than the one he usually goes to because once he started walking he couldn’t stop. Evan enters the place and looks through much of the same products the one by his home has. The gas store, like most gas stores, is cool and dim with a white light that buzzes in and out of order. He stands by the wall of chips, all of them packaged in small colorful plastic bags, Evan is about to reach for the Lays when someone steps beside him.

It’s Connor. He’s wearing much of the same thing as the last couple times he saw him: a black jeans jacket with splashes of what looks like gray dust, and a black v-neck with similarly dark jeans. This is the first time Evan has seen the other boy in the daylight when Evan is not in a significant amount of pain. It looks like he hasn’t washed his hair again, because it hangs oily off his head, framing his thin face.

In this dim and stuffy gas store, Evan has the crazy idea that Connor never left that bridge. He can still smell cigarette smoke off him, as if all that smoke he breathed out into the air followed him from that night. Connor tightly asks, “What are you doing here?” 

“Um...I don’t know,” Evan nervously grabs a bag of chips and then stuffs it back into the shelf. He can’t look at Connor, his eyes flit everywhere but at him.

Connor asks the same question, except there’s something edging his words, “What are you doing here?”

Evan neck prickles, he’s confused, “I don’t know? I---”

“We keep meeting, it’s weird…” Connor’s eyes are narrowed and pinning Evan down. 

Evan is at a loss for words. 

Connor suddenly moves and paces in the narrow aisle, “My parents didn’t put you up to this? To like, follow me around or something creepy? Because if they did, that’s fucked up man.”

“No, what? They didn’t! No one made me go out and, what? Follow you? No,” Evan brings his voice down when an employee opens the staff door behind him and steps out, awkwardly moving between him and Connor, “I wouldn’t do that, it’s just a co-coincidence that we keep meeting.”

Connor doesn’t look convinced, “Then why are you in this store so far from your house? I know where you live, dude. There’s at least three gas stations not even five minutes from your house!”

Evan’s heart is beating fast and he’s starting to feel a little dizzy and a lot hotter, “I swear, I haven’t been following you! I just walked over here because I was bored.”

Connor paces again and to Evan’s despair, his eyes look dazed, “How much did they pay you to say that? Because---” But Evan doesn’t hear what he says because he slides to the floor, trying to catch his breath. 

Evan’s not sure how long it takes until he can breath again but through his swimming eyes, he can see Connor there, pale-faced and mid-sentence in counting for Evan. 

They’re both crouched in the back of the gas store, flanked by bags of chips and candy. There’s a slight buzzing noise from the refrigerators that line the back wall of the store. 

Connor quietly says, “You weren’t lying.” 

Evan rubs his eyes and slowly nods, head throbbing.

“God,” Connor squeezes his fingers tightly between the bridge of his nose and hangs his head, “I’m the worst…”

“It’s ok…” Evan croaks.

“No, it’s not,” Connor’s chin works, “I made you---” he waves his hand, unable to speak. He cautiously asks, “Are you ok now?”

“Yeah,” Evan tries to get up himself but Connor gets up and helps him up. 

They both silently shuffle out of there. Connor with his eyes on the ground and Evan feeling disorientated. They step outside and the sun is warm and feels good on his face, Evan closes his eyes and takes in another breath. When he opens his eyes, Connor is already a couple of feet away.

Evan asks without thinking, “Where are you going?”

“I think it’s best if I just go now.”

“Didn’t you---Didn’t you say you wanted to sign my cast?” 

Connor slightly turns, not enough to face Evan, “I don’t think you’d want my name on it.”

“But I do?”

Connor doesn’t say anything and reluctantly goes back to Evan and accepts the sharpie he has outstretched in his hand. 

Evan checks his pockets and pulls it out. Right sweater this time. Connor accepts the Sharpie and tugs Evan’s arm just a little too high. Evan makes a small noise. Connor winces and then lets Evan lower it to a more comfortable height. 

Evan’s never had a cast signed before so when Connor uses a lot more elbow than Evan would think is necessary to sign his name, he doesn’t initially think anything of it. 

And then he looks at it, “Wow.”

Connor’s name is written in big blocky letters all along the front of the cast, so that now when Evan hugs his arm in front of him, CONNOR shows up. Evan catches a glimpse of it on the reflection of the gas station window and so does the cashier, he catches the cashier raising their eyebrows and Evan quickly looks away, flushing slightly, “Thanks.”

Connor gives him a slight smile, “Sure. Bye, Hansen.” And then he leaves without another word.

******

A week later, Evan wakes up before the sun rises. He was asleep one moment, and then he was awake the next. Nothing special about it, just a simple blink and you'll miss it transition from unconsciousness to consciousness. 

He takes his meds, brushes his teeth, and shuffles into the living room to lay on the couch and watch TV with the sound muted because Heidi’s room is right on the other side of the TV. He doesn’t even bother coming up with dialogue or to try and come up with a story, he just stares at the people in the sitcom as they go about their sitcom way. A house, another house, the mall, the park, and then the house from the beginning. 

Evan catches the sounds of Heidi getting up for the morning. A thud here, a pat there, soft footsteps and then a fan of light as she opens the door and steps out. 

She stands in the pool of light from her room, wearing her things to go to work. She smiles curiously at him, brows furrowed, as she brushes her hair back with her fingers into a high ponytail, “Evan, what are you doing there?” 

“Hey mom,” He doesn’t get up, it’s kind of peaceful laying on his back, hands on his stomach, “I’m just resting.”

Heidi quickly finishes tying her hair back and checks her bag that hangs off her shoulder, “Wouldn’t you want to do that in bed?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know, this show is kind of good.”

Heidi pauses and studies him with her usual concern, she walks over to him and leans against the side of the couch with her hip, “Really? What show is it?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Hmm,” She runs a hand through his hair absentmindedly and then asks, “Are you ok, honey?”

“Yeah, I’m ok,” Evan begins to sit up but Heidi gently pushes him down.

He can hear the gentle smile in her voice, “If you’re comfortable here, just stay here a while longer. I’m not asking you to move. It’s just unusual to see you at this hour, not that I’m complaining, I haven’t seen you all week!” 

“Yeah…”

“I think I'm going to come home at around 6:30. Why don’t you go to the library and pick up a movie for us to watch?” 

Evan tries to hide his sigh, he knows it’s probably not going to work. His mom always makes plans like these and they have always been stopped one way. He doesn’t mind too much at this point because he always expects it, but Heidi always walks around with a guilty shroud whenever it turns out she was wrong. Evan musters a smile, “What movie should I pick up?”

“Your pick, I’ll bring the popcorn and candy,” Heidi does a small hop and blocks the TV as she stands with her hands on her hips, wearing a big grin that even the darkness of the room can’t hide, “You still like Red Vines, right?”

“I do, thanks,” looking at his mom’s excited face, he can’t help it if some sparks of hope start blinking awake.

She dashes off to the kitchen and there’s the slam of a kitchen cabinet as she probably grabbed a Clif bar.

“I’m going to leave a 20 on the table,” She points at him, “I want you to get something with that. Food, specifically.”

He hears her shuffling with her jacket and the tinkle of keys. Before she leaves she bends down and presses a kiss to his forehead, “I promise, sweetie.”

Later that day, Evan heads to the library, unsure of what movie he should pick. Heidi usually likes Rom-Coms, he likes watching them with her, but she’s the one who usually knows which one to get. Evan muses over the movies, looking at all the titles and feeling lost. He’s about to pull his phone out to look up a list of recommended rom-coms when he hears a voice that's becoming slowly familiar. 

“Insane, how? How do we keep doing this?” Connor, perplexed, tilts his head and looks at Evan as if he's not sure he's seeing what he's seeing. 

Evan does the mental math, “Well, this time it’s been a week since we’ve run into each other.”

“Still, it’s weird,” Connor lightly kicks the bookshelf of DVDs, “Anyways, what are you doing?”

“Not following you,” and then Evan bites the inside of his cheek, hard. More words start spewing out in hopes of covering up the last few, “I mean, I’m looking for a movie. My mom wants to have a movie night so she asked me to come here and pick one. Do you happen to know any good rom-coms? I was just about to look up a list of them on my phone.”

Connor appears to ignore the ‘not following you’ comment in favor of saying, “Can’t really help you there, I’m more of a sci-fi and horror kinda guy.”

Evan pretends to be preoccupied by the array of movies before him as he wildly thinks about what to do or say next because Connor is still standing next to him as if he still wants to talk. Evan blindly reaches for a movie with a name that sounds like the title of a rom-com he’s heard of before. It’s _Notting Hill_. Evan flips it over to read the back.

Connor leans in and raises his eyebrows, “That’s a Christmas movie...And it’s summer, right now.”

Evan flushes, “That’s ok, I’m Jewish,” and more quietly, “Culturally, that is. So, it doesn’t really matter to me,” He wonders if that was lame. _ Why did I say that? _He itches to go to the check-out line, “Are--are you going to get a movie?”

Connor’s very slight smile falls, he tugs on his ear, there is a black stud on it, “I would, if I had someplace to watch it.”

“Oh,” Evan doesn’t really understand what that means but he won’t pry. Instead, he thinks about how his mom will not be home until 8, and she will likely not even come at all until midnight. So, he asks him, “Do--do you want to watch one at my house?”

Connor blinks in surprise, “Sure?”

They end up picking three movies. One sci-fi, one horror, and one animated movie. 

As they drive, Evan guides Connor through the familiar streets until they pull up to his home. The grass is yellow and dry because of the summer heat. The street is otherwise quiet, except for two children on bicycles whose barks of laughter fade down the street as they zip past. 

Evan hasn’t invited someone new to his home in a long time. Jared hasn’t been by for awhile, because when they met, they would usually go to the Kleinman home. As he shakily turns the key and feels Connor’s expectant presence behind him, it dawns on him that the last time someone came over to hang out with him (that wasn’t Jared) was a kid he briefly made friends with in fourth grade. 

Evan slowly opens the door, steps inside, and glances at Connor to see his reaction. He knows his and Heidi’s place is very small and a little messy. He casts a calculating eye over it all, trying to pretend to see it through a stranger’s eyes and he feels a little bit of embarrassment pool in his stomach as he catches his sweater carelessly thrown over the couch, a Cliff bar wrapper on their small dinner table, and other small things strewn innocently about but glaringly obvious when looked at closely.

Connor’s expression is blank. 

Evan doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. 

Connor doesn’t move past the mantle, his eyes sweep through the house before landing on Evan. He points at his boots, “Should I take these off?”

“Um, sure? If you want to?”

Connor is already untying his shoes, leaning his back against the wall and then settling them neatly by the door. Evan never does that, but he copies Connor quickly. 

Evan sets the first movie they decided to watch (_ Interstellar _) up in the old DVD player he and Heidi have had since forever. Connor settles on the couch and stiffly sits there, looking unsure of what to do with his limbs. As Evan sits on the other side of the couch, Connor hugs his arms to himself and says, “I like your house.”

“Oh, thank you,” The movie trailers start playing very quietly, there are little noises of explosions and of other movie things. He can’t help wondering why Connor said that but he doesn’t offer an explanation. 

Evan offers him water but Connor shakes his head and leans very carefully into the couch as the movie begins to play. Evan turns the volume up as the movie opens with someone speaking. 

Periodically Evan would look over at Connor and find him looking hyper-engrossed in the movie. He would hear him him muttering things under his breath and at one point Connor even turned to Evan and breathed out the word, “_ Incredible,_” with his hand on his forehead from shock. It was much the same with _ The Silence of the Lambs, _except Connor ended up hugging his knees to his chest and did not move for the entirety of the film. 

As the end credits roll, Evan jumps when he hears a rumbling noise. He blinks when he realizes that is sounded like a stomach rumbling. 

Evan slowly looks at Connor, “Was that---was that you?”

Connor’s cheeks tinge pink and he looks away, “No, it was a car outside.” 

The light of the slowly approaching sunset, floods through the kitchen window in a golden summer light and Evan looks at the time. He realizes it’s around dinner time for most people. Sometimes Evan skips meals during the day, so he often forgets that other people eat too. Evan feels guilty for forgetting, “Are you hungry?”

Connor scoffs, “I’m fine.”

“Well, alright,” Evan goes to the kitchen and picks up the twenty dollar bill Heidi left for him, “I’m kind of hungry, but---” he notices Connor look curiously at him as he slowly reapproaches the couch. Evan scratches his head and feels embarrassed to ask him this next bit, “Could-you-maybe-call-for-me?”

“Did you ask me to call for you?”

Evan nods, his ears going warm. 

“Okay,” Connor lifts his hand for Evan’s phone.

They ordered a cheese pizza from Domino’s. When it arrived they moved to the small kitchen table by the window for a bit of a break from the couch. 

The pizza box sits between them, the cheese a pillow speckled with golden spots and the crust of the pizza sturdy and crunchy. The smell of it wafts up to Evan’s nose, making him realize that he was actually maybe a little hungry after all. 

So, Evan ate one and his head started feeling a certain clearness that he didn’t know wasn’t there before. 

“Thank you for calling them.” Evan then admits, “I don’t really like talking on the phone.”

“It’s ok,” Connor carefully picks up a slice of pizza, a string of cheese follows it and he has to stretch his arm way out until it breaks, he quietly says, “I used to do the same for my sister.”

Evan can’t mask his surprise, he asks, “She doesn’t like to call people?”

“She didn’t used to, now she can. That was when she was younger.” There’s a bit of a long pause. Connor stares out the window with an expression carved in deep thought. His unfocused gaze as still as an untouched pool of water. 

Evan fishes for something to call Connor back from wherever he went, “_ In-interstellar _was really interesting...” 

When Connor returns to the present, it’s almost like a tangible experience. Connor may be the one lost in some thought or memory, but Evan is the one who feels frozen in time until he comes back. Connor bites into his pizza like nothing happened, “I loved it.”

That piques Evan’s interest. Connor doesn’t seem like the type of person to say they love something. At least, not out loud. “Why is that?”

Connor shrugs, “Space.” He glances up at Evan and seems to realize he could say more, “I’ve always liked space, it’s fucking amazing.” He looks up at the sky through the window, a star or two are beginning to twinkle into sight as the sun sets, “It’s nice to think there’s something other than this out there.”

“Do you mean aliens?”

“That,” Connor nods and rests his head on his hand, “And also alternate universes.”

“Do you believe in those?”

“I like to think they exist. Wouldn’t you?” Connor folds his pizza and takes another bite. 

“Yeah…” Evan thinks about another universe where he isn’t broken, has a functioning family, and has friends. And then he pictures one where he’s dead. He’s not sure which of those Evans he wishes were him. 

He wonders what Connor imagines about the alternate versions of himself. What are the things he would want to be different?

Connor pokes through his thoughts, “Do you think we are meant to stay here? Or are we _ meant _to leave Earth someday?”

Evan actually feels a sensation of pure dread at the thought of abandoning the planet, “Earth is irreplaceable.”

Connor leans both arms on the table and leans slightly closer, “Why?” As the sky darkens, his blue eye deepens in color like an icy Neptune. Evan swallows and fixes the collar of his polo. 

They spiral into a conversation that bounces as easily between them as a tennis match. They both have differing opinions, but that’s what makes the discussion burn as long as it does. 

“Even if we do make a sustainable Earth. I just can’t see us staying here.” Connor stretches his hand out, fingers splaying like a star, “Billions of stars, billions of planets…And in all of that, we would just stay?”

“Maybe,” Evan smiles tiredly, “It’s our home, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know, I guess?” Connor smiles crookedly and slides down his seat.

They jump at a loud noise. Both of them whip their heads to look out the window and it’s just a neighbor from across the street getting out of their car. Evan looks at Connor, heart racing because he is still a little spooked from The Silence of the Lambs. Connor has his eyebrows raised and a big smile on his face, “Maybe you should turn on the lights?”

It’s dark in the house because the sun had just set. They had both been so involved in their conversation that Evan didn’t want to get up to turn on the light. He nods, “Good idea.” While he’s up he checks his phone, it’s 7 p.m. and he hasn’t received a call or text from Heidi. Something probably happened at work. 

Connor awkwardly stands up, “Um, should I go?”

“You don’t have to. Do you need to go?”

“Not exactly. It’s just that I’ve been here for a long time, like 6 hours. And didn’t you say your mom was coming?”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t--I don’t think she’s coming,” Evan checks his phone one last time, nothing. He scratches the back of his head, “You can stay if you want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, if you want.”

“You--you aren’t tired of me?” he smiled weakly at the end, like it was meant to be a joke but it fell flat. 

“No,” looks down and away, “Are you tired of me?’

“No, of course not.”

Evan quickly looks up at that with a surprised smile. Connor is looking down at his socked feet, rocking back and forth. 

“Okay, cool.”

“Cool.”

They watch the last movie they borrowed from the library. Connor makes himself more comfortable on the couch, with one foot tucked under his other knee and one arm stretched over the top of the couch. 

Mid-way through _Spiderman: Into the Spider-verse, _there is the faint sound of keys rattling at the door. Evan jumps to his feet when he realizes that it’s Heidi coming home. 

“I’m home!” Heidi steps into the house, “What, you’re already starting a movie without---? Oh, hello.” Heidi holds a small bag with what must be the candy and popcorn she promised to get earlier this morning. Her cheeks are flushed as if she was in a rush and her hair is still tied up from work. She looks between Evan and Connor, expression going through a series of mental gymnastics before just outright glowing, “Are you a friend of Evan’s? I’m Heidi, his mom.”

Connor suddenly paled and Evan berates himself for not checking his phone again, because now there’s a text from fifteen minutes ago stating she was actually coming home. Connor gives a little wave, “Hi Mrs. Hansen, I’m Connor.”

Heidi grins, “It’s nice to meet you Connor. Sorry I’m such a mess right now, I just got off work.” With a bounce to her step she settles the bags on the kitchen table, “What movie are you two watching? I brought candy and popcorn. Would you like some?”

Evan looks at Connor but he just shrugs helplessly. 

“I-I think we’re fine now. Thank you, mom.”

“Ok, if you say so. I’ll just leave those there for you guys,” She places her hands on her hips and smiles widely at the two of them. Her eyes drinking in the scene of her son watching a movie with a new friend. That moment barely lasts a second before she’s moving again, heading off to her room, “I’m going to just go change. You guys just enjoy the rest of the movie ok?” And then she’s gone. 

Evan awkwardly laughs, “Um…Sorry about that,” his ears are absolutely hot from embarrassment, “Usually my mom doesn’t come home on time. Sorry.”

Connor fidgets on the couch and sits up straight, hugging his threadbare sweater around him tighter, “It’s ok, it’s just your mom. I should really be leaving now.”

“Really?” Evan hopes he didn’t sound too disappointed.

“Yeah,” Connor edges off the couch and stands, hands swinging back and forth. He sits on the floor where he left his boots and shoves them on. Evan follows him to the door, playing with the knuckles of his hands and unsure of what to say. 

Connor steps outside and then turns, fixing him with a warm gaze, “Thanks for having me over...I had a good time.”

Evan's heart harshly thumps, "M-me too." 

Connor does a weak mock salute, and with his long lanky legs, strides to his car and drives away.

Evan stands there for a bit, Connor’s car long gone out of sight, and ruminates about the last couple of hours. He feels a little tired, but not in a bad way. More like the kind of tired he would experience after climbing a tree, long and carefully, and then ending up somewhere at the top. A little winded, a little spark of accomplishment buzzing through his system, a little content as he stares past the tops of other trees and up at the sky. 

He doesn’t jump when Heidi places her hand lightly on his shoulder. She leans past him and looks outside, “You’re friend just left? I heard it get a little quiet out here.”

“Yeah.”

“Aw, that’s a shame.” She furrows her brows and studies his face, “He didn’t leave because of me did he?”

“No,” Evan vigorously shakes his head, “He said he had to go.” 

“Well, alright.” She smiles softly and rubs his back. It doesn't seem she believes him fully.

“Besides, he was here for a long time anyway.”

“Was he now?”

“Yeah.”

“Was it fun?”

“It was...”

“That’s good. He seemed nice.”

“He is.”

******

**Present day.**

Evan stares out the window, red slip of paper in his fist. He stares at the tree outside his window, it’s tall and spiraling. Perfect for climbing. Almost like that tree he let go of so many years ago. 

He presses his hand against the window and considers opening it when he hears a voice. 

“Where am I?”

Evan freezes. 

There’s another hand beside his. A long-fingered hand, like a pianist’s. It presses against the window beside Evan’s own. 

Evan sucks in a breath. 

Connor is standing right beside him, silently. 

The light shining through the window is so soft, and so thin on Connor’s face. It’s like there isn’t any light at all. Connor looks blankly around and asks Evan again, “Where am I?”

Evan chokes, “My home.”

Connor blinks and his eyebrows dip. There are gears turning in Connor’s head, they sound like branches breaking. He leans closer into Evan’s space, eyes boring into Evan’s own, “Who are you?”

“I’m-I’m Evan?” He didn’t mean for it to sound like a question. “Your friend.”

Connor tastes the word, “My friend…” And then his face goes sour. “Oh, it’s _ you_.” 

Evan takes a step back. Connor pokes him hard on the chest, “I know about that idea you have.”

“What---?”

A bird crashes into the window. Evan jumps at the sound it makes. 

“Don’t you dare fucking do it. You didn’t see in time.”

“I know I didn’t and I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t see,” Connor punches the window and the house splinters like glass. 

**5 years after Connor vanished.**

Evan snaps awake. From above, Jared stares down at him with a frown on his face. Evan feels a weight on his shoulder and then it’s gone. It was Jared’s hand. 

“You’re crying.” 

Evan shakily touches his face and realizes it’s wet with tears. He breathes in deeply and accidentally swallows a lot of snot in the process. Jared cringes and goes to grab a napkin for Evan which he accepts and blows his nose. 

“Bad dream, huh?” 

Evan slowly sits up and his head turns throbs like a bruise. The room is kinda spinny for a second but then it settles down into a haze. 

“Yeah,” Evan looks around in confusion. Outside, it’s dark. But the lights inside their place are on in full force. Evan forgot how many lights they actually have because he never turns on more than one at a time. 

He wonders what time it is. 

“It’s midnight, dude,” Jared looks at the bottle of wine Evan had opened and sniffs it, “I almost didn’t see you here except I heard sniffling and saw your pitiful self crying in your sleep. What were you doing?”

“I don’t know,” Evan stares down at his hands. He sniffles again. Eyes going dry with no more tears because he's gone empty inside. 

“Ok, come on. Let's go to sleep.” Jared sighs as if put-upon when Evan doesn’t move, “Come on, up you get,” Jared tries lifting Evan up by the arms, he can’t. He wheezes, “You need to help me out, man.” 

Evan robotically gets up.

They get ready for bed and as they are slipping under the covers, Jared tentatively asks right as Evan is drifting away, “What were you dreaming about?”

Evan wants to pretend he didn’t hear him but feels badly for it. After a long pause where he thinks that even Jared fell asleep he says, “I don’t remember.”

It's quiet for so long, Evan thinks that Jared may have actually fallen asleep but then Jared quietly says, “Okay.” Evan hears the sound of him turning around to face the other way. Jared tugs the blankets tighter around himself, “For all we know you could’ve been crying over someone throwing compost in the recycling bin, you and your great, dumb, bleeding-heart. Go to sleep and let the Earth go to Hell.”

“I hope you don’t mean that…”

“Of course I don’t, dummy. Go to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I haven’t updated since last decade?!? Dang...lol.  
Hope you liked it!! If you did, maybe let me know? I always love to hear from you!!  
Also, stg. There WILL be a happy ending!!! I swear on my heart!!


	6. Bonsai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their code word: Bonsai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings (in case you need them):  
Beginning of chapter has suicide ideation and thoughts of suicide/death. You can jump ahead to the part that's double-spaced and begins with "But now---."

**5 Months before Connor vanished.**

Before meeting Connor, Evan’s summer days were usually spent puttering around the house, doing scholarships, and looking at college applications. Those days were predictive and boring. He would go through them slowly and by the end of them it would be like they never happened. A bitter taste in his mouth would linger and remind him that he wasted a day in his sad life by doing nothing that truly makes him happy. He would often find himself sitting on the ground as a tiredness that comes from more than just the effort of doing work washed over him.

However, Evan’s days have started feeling less repetitive and slow because, more frequently, he has days where he actually feels like a teenager. Of course, Evan knows he is literally a teenager. But sometimes he gets the impression he is missing out on things. There are things he can’t do due to many reasons, many of them being resources, and the biggest of them, his mental health. Making friends has never been the easiest thing for him to do. It’s hard enough keeping a friend who only continues their association due to a sense of familial obligation.

There is no one, with the (possible) exception of his mom, who would care if he just vanished one day. Sometimes Evan wishes it were as easy as that. Disappearing, vanishing, getting erased---he wishes there were a way to do that instead of killing himself. Dying would mean someone would eventually find his body. He wouldn’t want anyone to find his body all dead and decomposing.

What if they found him years---no, decades---after he died? Someone might stumble upon his bones half-buried in the dark dirt, and then they’d bring in his bones to do a DNA analysis to find out who he was, and then they’d notify his closest relatives but then by then his mom would be old or dead. Maybe they’d let his step-siblings know what happened but they never knew him so they wouldn’t care. No one would care. So, it would be better if no one found him.

But then again, he would want to be found. He has this deep-rooted desire to be found. He wants someone to find him because then it would mean that he actually mattered.

Why can’t this whole dying thing be easier?

Gone, gone, gone. That’s what he wants to be.

He’s never fit in anywhere, and he likely never will. Evan inhabits a space all of his own, outside of where everyone (who isn’t like him---who isn’t broken) is. The space is small and cramped. When he gets anxious, the walls shrink and fall in on him. There are little windows in this space where he can look out at everyone else and wonder what it’s like to be ordinary, free, and under the sun.

Under the sun, you are seen. The shadows are noticeable but you can’t distinguish anything out from under them. Evan doesn’t think he’s even in the shadows. It’s like he’s in the air. Insubstantial and unseen.

Before Connor, the days passed slowly as water drops from a leaky faucet and each day seemed to build on top of the other, growing heavier and heavier with the knowledge that things would never change. That Evan would never change.

But now he has a friend. And that’s a change.

A good change.

Whenever Connor comes over, the days fly by and for the first time, Evan experiences a wish for a day to never end.

Connor is a constant source of curiosity, Evan can’t get enough out of observing the wheels and gears that make Connor tick. Except, Connor is not like a clock because while a clock can be relied on to move predictably, Connor cannot. He’s unpredictable as the sky. There may be clouds in the sky and they may look heavy, slow, and permanent, but eventually, five or twenty minutes later, they will have moved and changed like the shake of a kaleidoscope. There’s also the possibility they would have vanished entirely. His moods come in like the clouds, seemingly materializing out of nowhere but there are forces working inside the inner ecosystem that is Connor Murphy that are too big to be seen. The clouds come and go, but that is to be expected; the sky would not be the sky without it’s clouds.

Connor is quickly becoming a familiar presence in his life. The unpredictableness of his character is something Evan picked up on rather quickly. But, in all honesty, he doesn’t mind too much because being with Connor Murphy is like watching the sky. It’s unreasonable to expect the sky to remain eternally blue. Sometimes there are torn up pieces of clouds that litter the uneasy sky in desperate bids to appear smaller. Or there may be a stormy sky that demands it be respected. Sometimes there’s the quiet fog, blanketing the sky in tranquility. And then, sometimes, rays of light dart forth and bounce off the clouds, illuminating those brilliant giants. 

Evan doesn’t think of himself as much of anything. He’s like fallen food, he’s like a forgotten combination for a lock, like a sock in a puddle, like a sweater caught on a zipper, like a fallen pill. He’s a series of small unfortunate things. These things are all small and can inconvenience someone momentarily. But if they all happen within one day---that day would be considered a “bad day.” Too much of Evan can cause someone to have a bad day. It’s what drove his dad away, it’s why his mom is hardly home and wants him to be fixed, it’s why Jared would rather be with anyone else but him. When he’s not around, they have good days.

That’s it. He’s the personification of a bad day.

The only inconsistency in this is Connor. Connor doesn’t seem to mind Evan too much. Evan doesn’t want to be too presumptuous and assume that Connor actually enjoys his company. That would be too good to be true.

However, the only thing Evan knows for sure is that he very much enjoys being with Connor. He only hopes that Connor’s toleration of him doesn’t wear out too soon. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he found himself alone once again.

Probably climb another tree.

********

One day, during the last week of July, Evan sends Connor a text asking if he wants to hang out.

A couple hours later he receives a text.

**Connor:** No.

It’s like a baseball of dread shatters something inside him. He wonders if he did anything wrong. Is Connor upset at him? The text message didn’t sound good. Evan paces his room. How can a text message sound good? It can't literally sound like anything. Connor just said "no." No, as in he can't. But he didn't exactly say "no, I can't" did he?

Evan chews on his fingernails. Maybe Connor will send a follow up text. Evan shouldn’t ask what’s wrong in case there’s nothing wrong. But maybe he should. Maybe he did something that really upset Connor.

But they were talking yesterday!

Evan sits on the floor of his room, thoughts spiraling. He feels slightly dizzy from pacing in a circle.

Connor doesn’t send him anything for the next four days.

Within those four days, Evan has restless nights with the one thought running through his head: he messes everything up. One way or another, Evan messes everything up. Always.

On the last day of July, Evan wakes up and groggily stumbles to his phone charging on his floor. He flips it over and immediately drops it. Connor texted him back.

**Connor:**  
I’m an asshole.  
I literally have no explanation for what happened. All I can say is that I was tired.

Evan sighs and sits on the floor, cradling his phone in his hands and checking for cracks. For a couple of minutes, he thinks about what to say. Evan stumbles to his bed and lays down.

**Evan:**  
It’s ok.

He chews on his lip.

I get tired too  
Are you feeling better now?

**Connor:**  
Yeah  
Is it ok if I come over today?

**Evan:**  
yeah

Connor arrives a couple of hours later, looking a little like he just rolled out of bed. He doesn’t step inside which immediately sets Evan ill at ease. He avoids Evan’s searching eyes and gloomily frowns down at his black boots.

Evan hesitates. “Hi, Connor…”

Connor slowly shakes his head and then covers his face with his hand. He mutters, “This is going to sound so incredibly goddam stupid.”

Evan grips the door tightly, “Wha-what is?” A horrible thought twists his stomach: Connor doesn’t want to be friends anymore. Evan holds his breath.

Connor pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut, “I think we should…”

Evan blurts, “You-don’t-want-to-be-friends-anymore?” Evan squeezes his own eyes shut and grips the door even tighter, “It’s ok. I understand why you wouldn’t want to be friends with me anymore. But if there’s anything I did wrong I would like to know so that I can apologize and tell you that I didn’t mean it and that I’m sorry.”

“What? No…” Evan hesitates and then looks at Connor. His hand has fallen away and he looks alarmed. “I-I, no, that’s not what I want at all. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, it was me.”

“Oh.” Evan loosens his grip on the door and sighs in relief.

Connor regards him, “Is that what you want? To not be friends?”

Evan chokes, “No! I just thought that that’s what you’d want.”

“Why would I want that?” Connor crosses his arms, genuinely looking baffled.

Evan, himself, is a little stumped, “I don’t know.” There’s a lot of reasons why Connor wouldn’t want to be his friend, Evan himself being the biggest of them all. Except, given Connor’s perplexed expression, Connor doesn’t seem to realize that.

“Well, it’s not.” Connor mumbles something unintelligible.

“What’s that?”

“You’re my only friend, and I think that I’m your only friend too.” Connor flusters and plays with the rings on his fingers, “I’m not saying it to be mean. It’s true, isn’t it? We’re both not the most popular kids in school. I mean, no one goes out of their way to talk to us, like ever. I’m invisible. You’re invisible. We’re both invisible, except people hate me. I don’t think they hate you, though. You’re like, impossible to hate.”

Evan, stunned, lets go of the door and lets his hand swing listlessly to his side. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Christ, fuck, look, when I came over today I wasn’t expecting to be this honest. Hell, you can tell me to fuck off. That’s ok, I get it. All I can say to explain myself is that I wasn’t feeling well, you know,” he points to his head, “Up here…” He scowls and drops his hand, “God, that sounds lame but it’s true.”

“I understand,” Evan nods. He does understand. He may not know how Connor was feeling but Evan knows well enough what it’s like for himself. Connor’s shoulders loosen up a bit in relief. Evan then asks, “So, we’re f-friends?”

Connor blushes slightly, “If you want.”

“Yeah,” Evan’s cheeks heat up, “I do.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

They share a slow, cautious smile between them.

Evan nods behind him, “So, are you coming in or---?”

His eyes quickly light up and then he quickly nods, steps inside, and unlaces his boots, “How long do you think we were standing there?”

“Long enough for a family of mosquitos to come in.”

Later in the day, the house started to heat up as if the sun was just next door lounging in his neighbor’s yard.

The boys both agreed that the floor was the coolest place to go. Evan opened the window for some air but they have yet to feel a single breeze. Connor refused to take off his sweater, he said it’s so old and thin he doesn’t even wear it for warmth. He likes it just for the comfort of having it on.

Laying on Evan’s living room floor, they place Connor’s phone between them and play songs that they take turns choosing. The floor is hard, but it's cool, he imagines it’s what it must be like to float on one's back in the pool. He’s never been able to float in the pool, he’d get too nervous because it seemed like such a delicate balance that could too easily be broken. Perhaps he’d move in a way he wasn’t supposed to and then water would slip up his face and up his nose and his feet would be back on the pool’s floor. He’d fail at something so many others would be able to do with such ease.

The room is shadowed blue like water and there’s no noise except for the music he and Connor play; however, the music might as well not even be there. On the floor, Evan feels comfortable---there is no other way to describe it. He’s comfortable. Comfort is too often an alien sensation for him, but he doesn’t think he has ever felt so present as he does now, when he’s staring at the ceiling, and it’s just him and Connor, alone on Evan’s living room floor.

Songs float up into the blueness of the room, like millions of invisible bubbles. He can’t hear anything from outside, no cars and no bicycle bells. It’s easy to imagine there’s no one else in the world except him and Connor and the music.

Evan fans himself with his good hand. His other arm is still in a cast and it’s dreadful, sweaty, and uncomfortable. Connor’s song ends and he picks up his phone, “You’re turn.”

Evan dazedly peers up at the ceiling, a memory surfaces from earlier that day, “Wait. What were you going to say earlier?”

Connor chews on his lip and narrows his eyes in thought. A second passes, and with a groan he covers his face again, “Oh, yeah. I remember.”

Evan raises his eyebrows, “What is it?”

“It’s stupid…”

“I’m really c-curious now. What is it?” Evan doesn’t know if it’s a good or bad thing. But Evan is starting to learn how to read Connor and it doesn’t seem like what he’s going to say is going to be bad. “I’m sure it’s not s-stupid.”

There’s a long beat of silence. Connor peeks a brown eye from between his fingers, “We should come up with a code word” He presses his fists against his eyes, “for when either of us needs a rest day or something. I know it’s stupid, you can tell me it’s stupid.”

“Huh.” Evan runs his hand over his cast and thinks about it for a second. Connor didn’t talk to him for a couple of days because he wasn’t feeling well. Evan was worried about him during that time and wondered what happened. Sometimes Evan doesn’t feel well either and would like a mental health day. But that’s mostly during school. He supposes he may need the same thing from Connor at some point in their friendship as well. Evan gives a small thumbs up, “Okay.”

Connor smiles, surprised and pleased, “You want to do it?”

“Yep. So,” Evan scratches his head, “What should it be?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think that far.”

They both sat in silence for a bit. Thinking. They started throwing ideas in the air like Hawaii, narwhal, fuck, macaroni, ravioli, chef-boyardee (they were getting hungry, ok?) and Ursa major.

And then they settled on Bonsai.

“Bonsai?”

“Bonsai.” Connor shrugged a shoulder as best he could laying down on the floor. He passes Evan his phone, “Pick a song. I liked the last one you played.”

********

A couple of days later, Bonsai was put into motion for the first time. Except, not in the way Evan expected.

Evan thought that when Evan needed a bonsai day. Connor wouldn’t come over. Or, that if Connor needed a bonsai day. They wouldn’t text each other.

He thought that that was how it was going to go. However, given they didn’t really set any specific rules for bonsai except for coming up with the name and its purpose...It should really come as no surprise to Evan that this happened.

Connor arrived at 3 p.m. with a preoccupied set to his stiff shoulders. He had a bag hanging off his shoulder which he was gripping tightly.

Evan said, “Hi.”

Connor quietly said, “Bonsai.”

“Um,” Evan furrowed his brows and stammered, “Do you want to come in?” Connor immediately came in and threw himself on the couch. Crossing his arms and hanging his head down low, expression hidden behind a curtain of hair.

Evan had slowly closed the door and wondered what to do. He didn’t think Bonsai would apply for when they are physically present with each other.

Should he say anything? Evan didn’t think so. But it felt weird so he quietly asked, “Are you ok?”

Stony silence greeted him.

Connor kept his boots on. He never does that.

So, Evan quietly grabbed his earbuds, joined Connor on the couch and listened to nature sounds. He spared a concerned glance at Connor who still hadn’t moved and he closed his eyes.

They stayed that way for an hour.

Evan woke up from an uneasy nap to see that Connor finally moved.

That’s where they are now.

Connor silently sits on the other side of the couch, he has his sketchbook propped on his knees and blankly stares at the black cover.

It’s the first time Evan has seen it ever. Connor has mentioned several times that he draws and that he doesn’t like to show it to others. Evan spares a brief flash of curiosity and wonders about what is in that closed book.

Connor is staring blankly at his closed sketchbook. It’s unsettling and some part of him feels his heart break for him. Connor’s so far away, his silence is a deep blue. Solid, like shadows deep in the crevice of a canyon.

Evan thinks to try and see if he smells anything on him. He discreetly sniffs the air. There’s nothing.

Connor has been getting more comfortable in Evan’s home. Every time he’s been over, they haven’t had a repeat of the first night where Heidi came. Every time, it’s just been the two of them.

When Evan is not feeling well, he prefers to be in a place that he feels most comfortable and safe in. Which is to say, his room with the door shut and shade drawn. Evan cautiously thinks that maybe Connor came here because Evan’s home is that kind of place for him? Somewhere...Safe?

Evan shakes his head. That can’t be. Evan’s inflating his own importance. Wouldn’t Connor’s own home be where he finds calmness?

But what if it isn’t?

Connor hasn’t shared much about his own home and about his family. There have been some offhand comments about his sister and his mom but not much else. Now that he thinks about it, Connor hasn’t invited him to his house either.

Evan fidgets. There’s no use speculating about things that are probably nothing. Over-thinking things is his specialty. He just needs to wait until Connor is ready to share what (if anything) is wrong.

He desperately wants to say something to break the silence but they have their rule. Bonsai is the request for space.

Evan makes himself grab his laptop to work on a couple of scholarship essays he’s almost done with. It’s ok if they continue in silence until Connor has to leave…It’s completely ok. Evan will deal with it. He can deal with it.

It’s what his best friend wants.

Evan freezes as he’s opening his laptop.

_Best friend._

_Did I really just think of Connor as my best friend?_

Blanking every other thought out, Evan carefully holds that one above all else. He opens up an empty word document and begins writing a letter that his therapist assigned for him to write.

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_Today is July 20th. You just thought of Connor Murphy as your best friend._

_It’s true isn’t it?_

_Right now, he’s sitting right across from you. Today, he called a bonsai while you’re with him. That wasn’t one of the rules but you’ll do it anyway because he’s your best friend._

_I don’t remember the last time I had one. I used to think of Jared as my best friend but that was only because he was my only friend._

_What makes a best friend? Is it someone you enjoy spending time with? Because I do like spending time with Connor. Sometimes I feel there is never enough time. But when I’m with him I feel like there is all the time in the universe. I am only reminded about the limitations of time when he is gone._

_What else makes a best friend? I don’t know. This whole best friend thing is something new._

_All I know is that I’m a little happier now…_

_For your sake, and my own, I hope this happiness last for a long long time._

_Sincerely,_  
_Your most best, and dearest friend,_  
_Me_

_P.S. I hope today’s bonsai ends soon_

Evan closes that document, vowing to never look at it again. He’ll make a different letter for his therapist later. Two hours pass and within that time Connor started drawing softly. The soft scratch of paper on pencil are loud amidst the silence of the house.

Evan feels some encouragement from that. He can’t see what Connor is drawing because he has his sketchbook facing away from Evan.

The time reaches 7p.m. and Evan feels a little light headed. While Connor has been sitting silently beside him in his own world. Evan’s stomach has been tying itself into knots over what caused him to act like this.

He shuts down his laptop and puts it away. He grabs one of his mom’s Clif bars and chews on it quietly, trying not to make it obvious that he’s trying to get a read on Connor’s state.

He throws away the wrapper and then startles when Connor suddenly croaks, “Do you want me to call for pizza?”

It felt like a ghost suddenly made their presence known. He’s partially looking over at Evan, most of him facing away and towards the TV that’s turned off. He’s staying still, waiting for Evan to say something. Evan slowly nods and hands Connor his phone.

Connor’s voice is really dry as he speaks to the person over the phone. He hands Evan his phone and in a whispery voice asks, “Water?”

Evan quickly hands Connor water and then goes to get some more when he finishes his first glass within a second. His throat works as he takes big gulps of water, Adam’s apple bobbing wildly.

Connor clears his throat and coughs. “Thanks.” His voice sounds a little better now.

Evan just nods. Realizing that Connor has probably been dehydrated all this time and that Evan could have at least tried to offer him water without breaking the bonsai rule.

Evan cautiously asks, “Is bonsai over?”

“Yeah.” Connor dips his head, eyelashes pressing starkly against his clear skin, “I’m fine now.”

Evan chews on his lip, “Do-you-maybe-want-to-talk-about-it?”

“Not really,” Connor glances at him. “Not now, at least.”

Evan opens his mouth and then closes it, he badly wants to know what happened but Connor has his head down and his shoulders look as stiff as brittle bark. If Evan pushes, he'll break. But Connor wouldn't break down crying, Evan senses that he'd snap into anger. He’s waiting for Evan to pry. He’s avoiding eye contact and probably mentally preparing himself to either unwillingly share or push him away. Evan visualizes shelfing his concern, pushing it in a box for later. “Okay.” Connor quietly exhales and gives Evan a silently thankful look. Evan tries not to frown.

The rest of the night continues on as usual.

They are sitting on the floor in front of the TV.

Some show is on but Evan is not really paying attention.

Connor doesn’t tell him what happened.

But before going to sleep he receives a text.

**Connor:**

Thank you for the bonsai  
it helped

********

They’re in Connor’s car.

Evan hasn’t been in Connor’s car since the accident.

He’s not sure where they’re going but it doesn’t really matter. The windows are half-way open and cool air floods them on either side. The wind bats Connor’s ponytail around and Evan can barely hear the sound of the radio over the whirring wind flooding the car.

Connor had come over to Evan’s place and didn’t step inside. He stood outside with a threadbare sweater---his usual clothing---except this time he had his hair up. His face looked more open and boyish without his long hair hanging around his face, veiling his cheekbones and jaw. Truly, Connor has nice hair, it’s all full, and soft-looking, and looks like it’s nice to run fingers through. However, with it tied back, Evan could see that Connor has a handsome face too. Evan was struck by how much he could see his eyes this way. Light striked his brown and blue orbs and made them gleam brightly. The full weight of his gaze made Evan want to hide behind the door.

Cheeks burning Evan tried to casually lean against the doorframe. He immediately felt like he looked like a loser, so he wobbled back into a standing position and awkwardly crossed his arms. He stuttered, “W-what’s up? I wasn’t d-doing m-much just now. Just---” He trailed away, he really hadn’t been doing anything at all. He had just been aimlessly scrolling through his phone. Evan fell silent.

Connor adjusted the strap to his messenger bag and asked, “Do you want to do something today?”

Evan peered past Connor, it looked hot out, “Like what?”

“I don’t know…” Connor looked down at his boots. “Actually, I do. I want to show you something.”

Evan deliberated about getting a jacket. He didn’t know how long they were going to be out for. He grabbed one even if stepping outside felt like walking into a wall of heat.

And then, they left.

The sunlight is bright and golden and Evan feels like they could drive forever.

Eventually, Connor does stop.

“We’re here.”

They step out of the car. Outside, the air is buzzing with warmth. Connor leads Evan to a trail that is surrounded by dry old trees, aged by the sun and their solitude. Evan realizes this was an apple orchard due to the barely noticeable rows the trees are set in. Long dry grass sways between the trees and a breeze sweeps past the two boys that smells faintly deep and earthy and maybe a little like apple.

“This used to be an apple orchard.” Connor confirmed Evan’s thoughts. “Most of the trees have died, I think. But there are some that are still alive.”

It’s hard to believe this place used to be filled with life, the silence of the trees speak of years of solitude and abandonment. The trees that are alive have grown wildly and without inhibition, while those that have died lean at angles and bear no leaves.

“How long has this place been abandoned?”

Connor shrugs and joins Evan by one of the living trees, it has no apples on it. There are only yellow-green leaves that gleam a dull green in the summer light. He leans against the trunk and looks up at the branches, “I don’t know. My family and I stopped visiting this place a long time ago before it closed. They could’ve closed a month after we stopped. Or a year later. I have no idea.” He reaches up and grabs a random thin branch. It easily breaks and snaps sharply. Connor twirls the stick around in his fingers, it spins so fast that it jumps out of his hand and disappears into the long grass at their sides. “I came back here very recently to check it out and found it like this.”

“Oh,” Evan immediately imagines the trees filled with fat red apples hanging above two children running through the shorn emerald grass. He pictures them dashing between healthy trees that rattle their leaves gently above them, sending broken light onto the floor for the children to stomp on as they dash through. They play some game only the two of them know the rules of and of which the trees can only bear warm witness to. Evan hears laughter, shouts and giggles---sounds of joy. One of the kids has short brown hair (like he remembers Connor used to have in elementary school) and smiles freely as a smaller child with golden hair tries in vain to keep up with her older brother. She’s frowning in frustration and grinning in turn, not realizing that her older brother is not running as fast as he truly can. Following not far behind the kids are the fuzzy shapes of two adults. Evan pictures them holding hands and smiling at their children.

The scene in his imagination only lasts two seconds. But, it is enough to have his heart rise and then quickly fall in sympathy. This place must look very different from how Connor remembers. That must be sad for him to see. “I’m sorry.”

Connor breaks another stick, he shrugs, “Don’t be. I don’t exactly have fond memories of this place.” He’s frowning and breaking the stick into little pieces, watching them fall into the grass.

“It--it just seemed like an important place to you or something.”

Connor snaps, “Well, it’s not.”

Evan knows better than to ask _Then why did you bring me here?_

Evan runs a hand over the tall grass. Unsure if this is going to help any he asks, “Do you know what they used to call apples in the colonial times?”

Connor shakes his head.

“Melt-in-mouths or winter bananas.”

Connor snorts, “Winter bananas?” A thin trickle of sweat beads down his forehead, gleaming like a crystal. He swipes it away with the back of his hand, he grins, “Apples look nowhere near like bananas. Actually, I think no other fruit quite has that phallic-look to it.”

“Right,” Evan covers his mouth as he giggles. He wipes his own forehead, thinking he might be sweating too. “I don’t know why they called it that exactly... I think it was because they thought apples tasted a little like bananas back then.”

Connor hums. He absentmindedly grabs another branch, “Got any more tree facts?”

Evan says with a hit of enthusiasm, “Actually I do.” Evan thinks about other facts he knows, they roll through his head like a spinning wheel. But then they stop. He lowers his head, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Connor has heard Evan talk about trees ever since they started being friends. Now that they are literally surrounded by trees, he probably doesn’t want to hear more about them. That would be too much, wouldn’t it?

Connor raises a brow, “And? Are you going to share?” His has a crooked smile which invites Evan to continue.

“Did you know trees can talk to each other? Have I already told you this? I’m sorry if I already have.”

“That’s fucking insane. How do they? And no, Evan, you haven’t.”

So he tells him.

They explore the abandoned apple orchard for a bit and then stumble upon a trail. A faded and broken plank has the words MEADOW scratched onto a wooden plank. The sign points down the trail. The pathway is barely visible with all the natural growth encroaching on it.

“Do you want to go?”

“Let’s go.”

They make their way down the trail. The smell of decomposing apples fades behind them as they climb up a slight hill and through densely growing trees. Connor will occasionally pick up random leaves and ask Evan if he can identify them. Evan can do some but not all. He warns Connor to watch out for poison oak and Connor stops picking up leaves.

Suddenly the trees are not so thick as they enter the meadow. The meadow is rich with golden waves of grass. The tops of them roll like waves in the slight summer breeze that descends from the clear blue sky to hug the world. Evan stretches his head back and gasps at the sky that stretches onwards and upwards for forever, not a single cloud in sight.

It’s quiet here.

Evan and Connor take in the meadow for a handful of minutes. Catching their breath from their little hike and grabbing their water bottles from inside Connor’s messenger bag.

Connor squints his eyes and then points, “I think that’s a deer.”

Evan shades his eyes with his good hand, “I see it.” The deer is the same color as the grass, if not, a deeper shade of honey. It doesn’t see them and makes its way through the middle of the meadow. Slowly, edging towards the other half of the woods and then disappearing.

Evan is half-way impressed, “How come you always spot these things?” He’s remembering the shooting star on the bridge.

“I don’t know. I guess I don't really look for these kinds of things.”

“I don’t either.”

“Don’t know what to tell you there, Ev.” Evan warms at the nickname and the meadow suddenly becomes ten times brighter, like real gold. “Let’s sit down for a bit, yeah? How about under that tree?”

Up on a small hill, Evan and Connor plop under a wide-crowned oak tree. The trunk is thick and stocky, the branches of it low-hanging and brushing just the tops of their heads when they sit. The grass is cool under the shade, almost damp, and the two of them sit side by side, the trunk propping up their backs.

They don’t really talk about much. Just about random things like music, movies, and books they like. Connor keeps asking Evan about tree facts. If Evan didn’t know better he’d say it’s because Connor likes to see him get excited. He only suspects this because he’ll be in the middle of wildly using his good hand as he speaks and then he’ll look over at Connor and stumble on his words. An open expression of attentiveness would lift the corners of Connor's mouth and slightly crinkle his eyes in an expression that could only be fond. It makes it terribly difficult to meet his eyes sometimes. 

However, eventually, conversation drips away as they settle into silence.

Connor pulls out his sketchbook and quietly sketches the branches up above them. Evan only guesses that that’s what he’s doing because he can’t actually see what’s he’s drawing since he’s laying on the ground with Connor’s bag under his head. Evan didn’t want to use his bag like that but he insisted.

Connor keeps glancing upwards and then drawing with quick sharp strokes of the pencil.

Evan closes his eyes for a bit. He listens to the scratch of the pencil and the very very soft sound of the nature that surrounds them. He plays with the texture of his cast, running his fingers lightly over it. Connor’s name is still the only thing on it. The big blocky letters have kind of grown on him, it distracts him from remembering that no one else’s name is on it.

Heidi offered to sign it. But she’s his mom.

He’s going to get the cast taken off very soon.

Evan stares up at the branches of the tree. He remembers falling and all he feels is a little queasy from the memory of it. Besides that, it’s rather peaceful.

Connor suddenly speaks up, “Can I draw you?”

Evan sits up, the question not quite registering in his head. Evan understood Connor wanted to draw. But he wants to draw him? Evan? What?

Connor quickly says, “It’s ok if you don’t want me to.”

Evan plays with his knuckles, pulling them self-consciously. “I don’t know...”

Connor bends over his sketchbook again, moving on. “Alright, I won’t.”

A minute passes. Evan tugs at a knuckle too harshly and winces, “Okay, fine.”

Connor looks skeptical. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, but are _you_ sure?” Evan resists the urge to rub his cheeks and hide his face in his knees. He gestures at abortively at himself, “I’m all---” _Gross. Weird-looking. Ugly_. He wants to ask _You wants to draw me? Why?_ “I’m all me…”

Connor tilts his head and looks at Evan like he doesn’t understand him, “Yes, you are you. And I want to draw you, if that’s ok?” He looks at him like he’s trying to decide what to start drawing. Evan’s round eyes? His dorky nose? His many, many freckles?

Evan looks away, suddenly thinking about what he sees everyday in the mirror. He doesn’t like what he sees. And now, Connor wants to draw that? Evan feels sweat bead on his forehead, he wipes it away self-consciously. He wants to say no but, in a weird way, he doesn’t. Connor told him a while ago that he doesn’t like to show his drawings to other people...And Evan’s curious about Connor’s drawings, so if this is how he’s going to see them then…

“You can do it. I just---” Evan leans against the tree, he hunches over, and then leans against the tree again. He kicks his legs out but then brings them back in. “I don’t know what to do?”

Connor starts sharpening a pencil. He looks excited. “You don’t have to do anything. Just stay still.” He leans one shoulder against the tree and faces Evan, sketchbook and pencil in his lap. The paper is blank and clean. It looks oddly expectant.

“I don’t think I can do that. Have you ever seen me stay still?”

Connor drums his pencil against his sketchbook, thinking. He drops his pencil and then checks his bag; carefully, he pulls out a thin book and hands it to Evan, “You can read this while I draw you.”

It’s a small book titled The Little Prince.

Evan laughs incredulously and not a bit nervously, “Do you have everything in your bag?”

“It’s possible.” Connor smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners sweetly, “I just get bored easily.”

Evan relaxes slightly and smiles down at the book, “I don’t think I’ve read this.” The edges of the book are dented and soft from use.

Connor nods at it, “It’s good.” He discreetly picks up his pencil again.

Evan flips the book open and finds that there are illustrations inside. He goes to the beginning and starts reading, shoving that little nervous voice in his head to the back for a little bit. This is Connor, he trusts Connor.

Evan sinks into the book. It’s unusual and insightful in ways he had never considered. He takes care to turn each yellow page gently because they’re stiff and delicate from age. The sound of the pencil scratching away at paper fades away. It’s nice just to sit there and read a book in a moment that feels far away from the passage of time.

Evan is half-way through the book when he hears “I finished.”

Evan finishes the page he is on and builds up the courage to look at Connor’s drawing. He slowly closes the book and then looks at Connor.

Connor hugs his sketchbook to his chest, “Do you want to see?”

Evan nods, heart beating fast.

Connor looks down at his sketchbook, he blinks down at it, eyes darting around the page for a second before he whips it around so that Evan can see it too.

The first drawing is rather crudely done. The lines of the drawing are quick and numerous, thin like spiderwebs, all of them molding together in a loose interconnectedness to form Evan’s upper half. Evan’s good hand, which holds the book, is well-defined, like a brick on the paper. Shadows mostly make up Evan’s face, his features are not well-defined, sort of like the singular line that represents the tree at his back.

Evan likes it a lot. Connor tells him there’s another.

The second drawing is more carefully done. The lines are delicate and few. The book is hardly there, just four strokes of a pencil. His features are clearer this time, thick eyebrows tilted slightly upwards as he read. There are the tiny details of his eyelashes swept downwards as he's bent over the book. Evan can see his freckles, his slight double chin, and the barest traces of a smile he hadn’t realized he had had.

Evan studies the drawing closer, tilting it a bit more in the sun, away from the shade so that he might see it more clearly. He whispers, “Wow.”

Does Evan really look like that? He doesn’t look much like anything. He’s just reading a book in the drawing and Evan can’t find anything within himself to critique himself for. Connor drew him just existing as he is. It’s painfully ordinary and real. Connor might as well have taken a picture of Evan. But, Evan doesn’t think that a picture could capture half as well the feeling of tranquility radiating off the drawing.

Evan keeps staring at the drawing; heart beating like a soft drum.

“What do you think?”

Evan pulls his eyes away and looks at Connor, “It’s wow.”

Connor smiles crookedly, amusement dancing in his eyes, “It’s wow?”

Evan flushes, “They’re both so good. You’re very good at drawing. Thank you for showing me them and for drawing me. I never thought I’d ever see a drawing of myself and wow they’re very good. “

Connor laughs and gingerly accepts the sketchbook back, “Do you want to have them?”

“No, they’re yours.”

“It’s you in the drawings, though.”

“I guess but---”

Connor begins to tug on one of the drawings, his mind made up.

“No!” Evan flails his good arm out and catches Connor’s hand right as he was about to rip one of the drawings out of the sketchbook. Connor’s hand stills. His hand is warm. It isn’t soft---but it isn't dry either.

For some reason, Evan always thought his hand would be cold.

He let’s go of it after it becomes clear that Connor isn’t going to tear the paper any more. Connor closes his sketchbook and briefly touches the hand Evan grabbed. Evan wonders if he grabbed him too hard, he hopes not.

Connor clears his throat, “We should get going. The sun is going to set soon.”

Evan and Connor stretch as they stand. Connor packs away his things. The sun begins to dip into the horizon, gentle like a feather. As it sinks, it fans fire-like light over the meadow, washing everything in golden caramel.

Evan takes a picture of the field. He then takes a picture of Connor while he’s not looking, bent down stuffing his book in his bag. Connor looks up and then makes a face, scrunching up his eyebrows and sticking his tongue out. Evan snaps a photo of that too.

They take one last look at the meadow, “I like it here.”

“Me too.”

They stand there in silence until Connor lightly pokes Evan, “Tag.”

“Wuh-what?!”

Connor dashes down the hill and into the meadow. “You’re it, doofus!”

Evan jerks into action and runs after Connor; a wild thrill coursing through him. He’s running so hard down the hill, his knees threaten to topple him over. He can barely see Connor due to the sunlight hanging low and heavy in his eyes, the tall grass whips past him, brushing his arms as he runs.

Connor is too fast. “You’re too fast!” He yells.

Connor yells something but he can’t understand, probably because Connor was laughing more than actually using words.

Evan squints his eyes against the light and reaches out a hand. He tries to poke Connor’s shoulder but Connor jumps away with a grin. Evan runs harder and tries again. He swipes his hand right in between Connor’s shoulder blades. “TAG!”

Connor gasps.

Evan stumbles away with an, “Oh no.”

He runs blindly away, the sunlight still in his eyes. He looks behind him and finds Connor sprinting after him with a near manic look on his face. Evan chokes on a laugh and tries to pick up the pace but he’s getting tired. He can hear Connor getting closer.

Evan trips on a random rock jutting out of the ground, he catches himself for a second, and then Connor crashes right into him. Evan hits the floor and gets the wind knocked out of him as Connor lands right on top of him. “OOF!”

“Ow, my ribs dude.” Connor lifts himself himself to his hands and puts his knees on either side of Evan. Cheeks flushed and hair wild from all the running they did. He grins brightly down at Evan and pokes him smugly on the chest, “Tag.”

Evan breathes in deep, catching his breath “You got me.” Connor’s grin only widens. His hair sways slightly, close enough to almost tickle Evan’s cheeks. Evan’s heart won’t stop racing, he wonders if he ran too hard. Maybe Evan has a heart condition he just unknowingly triggered? It leaps into his throat and makes his stomach flutter each time Connor blinks his long lashes down at him.

Evan twitches. He needs to get up. But he can’t get up because Connor has Evan bracketed beneath him. Thinking fast, Evan reaches and quickly taps Connor on his waist, “Tag! No tag backs.”

Connor’s eyebrows shoot up. He sputters, “What?! No fair!”

“What are you going to do about it?”

Somehow, Connor’s eyebrows go higher.

Evan chokes and his face heats up. The sky blushes a rosy pink above them, a gentle breeze teases Connor’s hair and briefly covers his face, but then the breeze slips away. Connor’s eyes are round and pin Evan to the ground, making him feel weak and energized all at once. There’s electricity zipping up and down and around Evan, swirling in the air and sucking the air out of his lungs. For a second, Evan actually feels the ends of Connor’s hair touch his cheeks. For a second, Connor gets closer.

But then it’s all stripped away as Connor rolls away and jumps to his feet. It’s cold where Connor used to be. “Is your arm ok?”

“Yep.” Evan dazedly nods, and hugs his cast to himself, “It’s fine. I’m actually getting my cast off soon. Did I already tell you that? I’m sorry.”

Connor doesn’t meet Evan’s eyes. “You already told me and it’s fine.” They start shuffling away, and back up the hill they were resting at to pick up Connor’s fallen bag.

They make their way back through the trail they came from, it slowly grows darker as the sun sets. They walk faster than the pace they originally had when they walked through there several hours earlier.

The sky is speckled with starlight by the time they reach Connor’s car.

They crane their necks and spin around, trying to catch a look at all of it. Connor spins around the longest, and the slowest.

Evan leans against the car, tilting his face skyward. He tries to make sense of the scattered stars, “Do you recognize any of them?”

Connor snorts, “Fuck no. There’s too many.”

***

**4 months before Connor vanished. August.**

Evan got his cast off.

It’s the early evening and he and Heidi are in their small bathroom with water loudly pouring out of the sink’s faucet. Evan instinctively pokes at an itchy spot on his recently released arm, but Heidi gently bats his hand away and replaces it with a warm wet towel.

“Don’t scratch.”

Evan mumbles he’ll try and shivers at the feeling of having soap being gently scrubbed onto his dry arm. The skin looks significantly paler and weaker in comparison to his other arm. He feels very strange looking at it, it’s good to have his arm back but it looks alien.

Heidi gently rinses his arm under the faucet and then pats it dry with another towel. She smiles gently at his arm and says, “This reminds me of when you were a baby.”

“Really?”

“Yep!” Heidi giggles, “You used to have this toy boat you loved to play with during bath time. You called it ‘Tub’ and would reach out your little hands all sweetly and say tub like toob.” She’s glowing from the memories she’s recalling.

Evan doesn’t look at his mom because his eyes are getting a little misty, “Oh, I don’t remember that.”

Heidi sighs, “You were too little.” She raises his hand and kisses the back of it. “All better now.”

Evan gently touches his warm and soft arm, “Thanks, mom.” A happy little light flutters around his ribcage, it glows a bright strawberry pink and flutters through the good memories of his childhood.

********

Connor has taken to bringing his sketchbook to Evan’s house every time he visits. Stashed away in Evan’s previously mostly empty desk are an assortment of some of Connor’s art supplies. There are markers, coloring pencils, sketching pencils and a set of three sharpeners. Evan doesn’t really mind. It’s kind of nice opening up his desk drawers and seeing stuff actually in them.

While Connor draws at Evan’s desk, Evan usually sits on his bed and works on applying for scholarships or writes little broken chunks of stories. Sometimes he likes to draw too, mostly nature scenes. But he doesn’t do them while Connor is around out of embarrassment because his drawings are a little boring.

It’s late at night and Connor has his phone plugged onto his charger while it softly plays Billie Eilish’s Everything I ever wanted. Evan knows who that singer is now because of him. Connor has Evan’s chair swiveled towards Evan and mouths the words to the song silently. He has his head tipped back on the back of the chair and stares up at the ceiling.

Evan is carefully doing the small exercises for his arm that his doctor prescribed and feels a little pleased that it’s starting to move a little better.

Connor suddenly sings softly, “And it feels like yesterday was a year ago.” He keeps going through the lines, uncaring that Evan is there as well. The song is slow and solemn, floating around the room like clouds in a dream.

Evan joins him, quieter than Connor’s singing, “I had a dream, I got everything I wanted.”

Connor hears him. He lifts his head and smiles at Evan, surprised.

“But when I wake up, I see you with me.”

Connor turns up the music and starts swiveling himself around on Evan’s desk chair. Evan gets up and twists Connor around, helping him spin, Connor laughs and sings louder. Evan raises his voice as well, getting a little warm from keeping Connor spinning. Connor’s face is a blur, but on each turn he’ll see bright eyes land on him before slipping away on another turn. Evan’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

The song ends and Connor laughs, “Stop, stop.” He stumbles out of the chair on shaky legs, “Fuck, I’m dizzy. It’s your turn now.” Another song starts to play, Connor pumps a fist up in the air, “Dude, you have to spin around now. It’s Nobody.”

Evan throws himself in the chair, “Okay, but not too fast.” He looks up at Connor. His cheeks are rosy and his hair looks like it got fluffier from all that spinning.

“Got it.” Connor reaches his hands out and Evan’s room blurs into lines of colors.

They happily throw the lyrics into the air, “Nobody, nobody, nobody---.” Evan feels the thud of Connor’s hands as he catches Evan’s chair and continues spinning it, a little slower than Evan did. Evan closes his eyes and grips the handle to his chair, “Give me one last movie kiss---” and then it suddenly all stops.

Connor’s phone vibrates with the sound of someone calling him.

Evan is facing away from Connor and he turns to try and see him because Connor isn’t picking up the phone. Connor stares at it ringing on the floor and doesn’t move. He has a peculiar look on his face.

“Are--are you going to get that?” Evan is a little breathless from the spinning.

Connor glances at him, and then picks up his phone. After another long beat where it’s approaching the time where the call would end, Connor swipes to answer it and steps out of the room.

Evan stays in the chair and waits, heart beginning to calm down rapidly.

It’s quiet and then Evan can suddenly hear Connor but he can’t understand what he’s saying (or yelling). Evan doesn’t know what to do. He’s not sure how long Connor stays out there but then Evan can’t hear Connor’s voice.

A minute passes and then five more. Evan starts to wonder if Connor left without saying anything but then the door clicks open and Connor steps back into Evan’s room as white as a ghost. Evan gets up, “Connor?”

Connor moves slowly, as if in water, and quietly sits on Evan’s bed. He curls his hands into tight fists and glares down at his knees. It’s like iron storm clouds swept into the room.

Evan stomach twists in worry, “Are you ok?”

“No.” The word floats in the air, in zero-gravity.

Evan is surprised at the blunt honesty and doesn’t know what to do with it. He softly settles down next to Connor, making sure to give him enough space. He searches for words and remembers what his mom usually says, “Is--is there anything I can do to help?”

Connor stands up and paces around Evan’s small room. Due to the space it’s more like he spins around in circles. He’s deep in thought, riding on the wings of a hurricane, going deeper into its eye. He stops and searches for Evan, as if lost.

Evan abortively reaches for him, “What’s wrong?”

“Can I sleepover tonight?” Connor is naturally a very tall individual, and he’s standing in front of Evan while he’s sitting on his bed. By all means he should be towering over him; but, at this moment Connor looks small.

Evan quickly nods, “Of course.”

Connor significantly relaxes, “Thank you.”

“Do you--do you want tea?” Heidi keeps some tea in the cabinets. Neither of them ever drinks them but she likes to have them there just in case. She says its good for seeking calm. Evan thinks that she keeps them there for him. He’s not a tea drinker, though.

Connor blinks and tilts his head at Evan, looking at him like he did in the moments before he drew him. “No, Ev, I don’t want tea.”

“Okay.” Evan plays with the sleeves of his sweater. “So, um, I think I might have something you can borrow.” Evan rifles through his drawers searching for something Connor could wear. Evan doesn’t have much, so it only takes a couple of seconds before he pulls out a pair of sweats and a random t-shirt he thinks would work.

Connor accepts them and disappears into the bathroom, re-emerging with Evan’s shirt that loosely hangs off him. It’s bigger on him and it’s size is especially evident on his shoulders. The sweats stop at just above his pale ankles. Connor kept his mis-matched socks on. The whole get-up is strangely endearing.

He joins Evan on his bed and they watch YouTube videos on Evan’s laptop. Slowly, they slide more and more down Evan’s bed until they’re both laying down, side-by-side, a pillow propped on top of their stomachs so that laptop may be slightly elevated. They just let YouTube go on autoplay and zip through a series of YouTube videos they hardly pay attention to.

Connor seems like normal again, he’s a comforting presence beside Evan. Evan likes the feeling of Connor’s warm arm next to his, he likes how the laptop subtly moves up and down with their breaths, and he likes how he can turn his head and see Connor relaxing just beside him.

Evan feels so soft and warm, he thinks he’s very much on the edge of just falling asleep. However, Connor suddenly asks, “Do you ever think about running away?”

Evan furrows his brows and lets his head fall to face Connor, “What? With you?”

“No, I mean. I don’t know.” Connor tears his gaze away from the laptop screen, there’s a video of someone vlogging their trip in some place far-away. It looks like Amsterdam or something, Evan isn’t sure.

“I guess I meant to ask, do you ever feel like it? Like you want to?”

“I guess, I don’t know. It seems kind of scary. So, I guess not.” Evan’s hand moves by itself and brushes Connor’s because they’re so close together. Connor freezes barely perceptively, or maybe doesn’t at all. “What about you?”

Connor sighs and then looks away, fixing his gaze up at the ceiling, “Same as you.”

In the video, the vlogger mounts a bicycle and shakily attaches their Go-Pro to it. Within seconds, they are suddenly in motion and start zipping through the streets of whichever city they are in. Evan’s computer suddenly flashes the low-battery notification.

Connor mutters, “You should turn it off.”

Evan does so and the room slips into darkness. They linger in a soft quietness that moves like waves lapping at a beach upon Evan’s consciousness. He’s starting to slip into sleep when Connor starts to move. He hears him sit up.

Evan yawns, “Where are you going?”

“I--” Connor’s voice is loud in the room, he brings it down to a whisper, “I thought I’d sleep on the couch.”

“Why?”

“You don’t want to share your bed, do you?”

“I’m ok with it. Here.” Evan scoots himself as back as he can, he presses his back against the wall to make space. “More space.”

“I might kick you and stuff.”

Evan grumbles, “And I might hit you. We’ll be even.” He’s getting tired and just wants to sleep. Why won’t Connor just listen to him? “Stop being stoopid and lay down.”

Connor doesn’t move for a minute and Evan is about to say something else when Connor carefully settles down beside him. He whispers one last time, “Are you sure?”

Evan sighs and sleepily smacks him somewhere on his shoulder area, “Yeah. Go sleep.”

“You mean over---?”

“Nooo.”

“Ok,” There’s a smile in his voice, “You’re funny like this, you know?”

Evan falls asleep with a small, small, smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! I hope this chapter was good, or at least fun to read. I'm having a bit of writer's block for the next chapter so the next one may take even longer. I know what I need to do I just need to figure out how I want to write it. Thanks for everyone who has been reading!!! I hope you don't lose patience with me...


	7. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promises and other things.

**5 years after Connor Vanished. **

“Thanks for having me over.” Evan takes a small sip of the tea Zoe brewed for him. She dashed a bit of honey in it and said it was some kind of red tea. He was never much of a tea drinker until Zoe and Alana went through a phase where they liked to host small tea parties. Actually, it wasn’t much of a phase, because they still host them on occasion. The tea smells earthy and deep, there’s also a hint of spice. “Are you sure Alana won’t mind?”

“Don’t worry about it, she’s away on some sort of thing for the honor’s club she’s in.” Zoe settles on the couch on the other side of Evan and blows on her tea, “Plus, I already told her what happened.”

Evan grimaces, covering his face, “You did?”

Zoe scratches her cheek lightly, actually looking a little abashed, “Sorry, it just came up. Would it help if I told you that I didn’t tell her _ everything?”_

“Kind of. But _ you _don’t even know everything.”

“True…”

“It’s ok,” He sighs. An edge of bitterness creeps into his voice without his permission, “You two tell each other everything. It’s expected...It’s just a little embarrassing is all.”

“Having a fight is not embarassing.” 

He dips his head, “It is when you’re kicked out of the house for it.”

She jerks in her seat, as if shocked, “He kicked you out?!”

“No,” Evan pinches the bridge of his nose, “I left.” His fingers feel feverish due to holding onto the hot mug of tea.

“Oh Evan, what happened?” Her eyes are wide in sympathy. She’s wearing a big comfy sweater and plaid pajama pants. When he looks at her he doesn’t see Connor. All he sees is Zoe. A swell of gratitude rises inside him to have a friend like her with him right now. 

Evan takes a drink of his tea even if it burns and tells her. 

He tells her about how earlier in the day he had a conversation with a co-worker at his job who passively-aggressively asked if he planned on continuing in the job because he’s an author now. He was bothered by that and wondered where they had gotten that idea from. After that, he had a harrowing conversation with his agent where they asked him about the progress of a book he hasn’t even started writing. He lied and said it was going well. He needs to come clean soon. But when? Why is he doing this to himself? They expect to see a draft next week. 

And then when he got home. He and Jared finally talked about Europe. A month after Evan found out about Jared’s tentative plans...

_They just sat down with their Chinese take-out when Evan blurted out, “So, Europe? What’s with that? When did you say you wanted to go again?”_

_Jared froze, “Europe. Right.” He methodologically served himself rice, chicken and noodles out of each canister. “I don’t know...It was just a thing I was thinking about. Nothing serious.”_

_“It-it kind of sounded like it was serious. I mean, if you want to go. We can--we can go?” _

_“Let’s talk about this later.”_

_“It’s been---” Evan steadied his voice,“It’s been a month since you mentioned this. I think we should talk about it now.” He tried to sound supportive, but a slight tremor in his voice betrayed his hesitancy to truly broach the topic. _

_“Now’s not the time. I think 'The Good Place' is about to start.” Jared gave a forced smile, “Let’s move to the TV?” _

_Evan snapped,“When is it ever the time?” His fork clattered onto the floor, he didn’t check to see where it landed._

_Jared’s thin smile completely dropped. _

_“What does _ that _ mean?”_

_“I don’t know,” Evan wanted to drop it---he really did. But he wanted to talk about it more. Something was nagging at his neck. _

_“No, you don’t get to say ‘I don’t know.’ What did that mean?”_

_Evan scrambled to fix the energy crackling darkly in the room, “I don’t know why I said that. Besides, we were talking about Europe.”_

_“God. Europe! Europe. It was nothing, just something you say in passing like ‘damn, I wish I could go Hawaii right now. And I also wish that my boyfriend would learn that not everything has to be serious! Can’t you just drop it?”_

_“Jared, please. I just want to plan ahead if this is something you want to do.”_

_“Fine.” Jared pushed his food away and glared at it. A long, long silence settled in. Evan waited with bated breath for Jared to say something. He was not prepared for the following words: “I wanted to go in the summer...Alone.”_

_“Alone?” Evan felt his stomach drop, “Why?”_

_Jared refused to meet his eyes, “I wanted---I don’t know. I would have told you, eventually.” _

_Evan blustered through his growing sense of hurt, he said, “What does eventually mean to you? Next year? The day before you wanted to leave?”_

_“Why does it matter?” Jared rolled his eyes, “You know about it now, don’t you?”_

_Evan gripped the table because if he let go, the world would go spinning. He wasn’t even sure if he was brokenhearted or angry. Maybe both. “Yeah, I know now. What I don’t understand is why you told Alana and Zoe before me?” _

_Jared reeled back in his seat, anger beginning to heat his face, “I didn’t tell them first! You were literally right there.” _

_Evan hid behind his hands for a second. Evan wanted to stop. He wanted to stop what was happening because it felt like all his frustration was bursting out of him like a broken dam. All of his messy feelings rushing onto the floor and filling up the room with the things that were better sealed away. He pried his hands away from his face and---in an old, yet familiar way---clutched them onto the hem of his shirt. Through gritted teeth he said, “That’s not the point.” _

_He flashed back to that painfully awkward moment at the breakfast table. The shame from that moment reanimated within him. It crawled out of the deep recesses of his memory and pierced him with a thorny blade of bitterness. He leaned forward and said, “I was embarrassed when they looked over at me and were like ‘did you know about this?’ and I was like ‘no, no I didn’t know’ and then they were like ‘how could you not know?’ and I was like ‘I don’t know!’”_

_Jared wrinkled his nose, “Don’t bullshit me, they didn’t ask you all that.”_

_He said, with something bordering on hysteria,“They did. In their heads!”_

_Jared scoffed. “Like that’s possible. What are you, telepathic?”_

_He cried, “It _ hurt _ me!” The words darted out of him wildly, desperate to make themselves known. _

_“Reading their minds hurt you?”_

_“You--You---” The chair made an awful screeching noise as Evan stood. _

_Jared’s eyes widened, “Where are you going?”_

_The world blurred, and the hurt stirred within him restlessly. Evan blinked past tears and stumbled to the door. “I’m leaving. I need air.” He heard Jared say something but he didn’t stop to turn back. Evan fumbled for his jacket, slammed the door behind him and blindly made his way to his car. _

Zoe’s eyes are wide in shock, “Wow.” 

Evan gives a tired laugh and shakes his head, “Yeah, wow.” He rubs his eyes and presses his knuckles into them until he sees stars. 

“I’m sorry.” Her kind eyes act like a balm to the parts of him that still ache. 

He helplessly shrugs, “It’s not your fault.” 

Zoe frowns and taps a long nail at her mug. It goes _ tap. tap. tap. _A bright sound, unlike her dark blue nail polish. She asks in a meditative way, “Why do you think he didn’t tell you ‘till now?”

“I don’t know,” He miserably swirls his tea around, “I think it could be because we hardly see each other nowadays. We’re both really busy. I guess he didn’t have the chance to until now...Or until that day we were having breakfast here.”

A couple of minutes pass in silence. In Alana and Zoe’s living room he feels all the thorns of the day melt away into the past. Each sip of tea warmly rolls onto the biggest bruise of them all: his tight, tight chest. His heart still thrashes inside, like it’s a sickened creature, wheezing as the poison courses through. But, the longer Evan rests on Zoe’s couch the more it quiets and settles down. He focuses on the warmth of the mug in his hands and senses his heart finally close its eyes, sigh, and listen to bird song. 

Eventually Zoe turns on the TV and the comfortable silence continues until Zoe quietly asks, “Would you even want to go on the trip?” She carefully keeps her gaze on the TV but he catches her glance at him, “I thought planes made you nervous.”

“They do make me nervous,” He mirrors her and blankly stares at the screen as Indiana Jones carefully slips a bag of rocks with the golden totem. Evan tilts his head to the side, “There’s medicine for that kind of thing, you know?” In the back of his mind he thinks about how he’d go about getting a prescription for that. A brief flash of glee brightens Indiana Jones’s sweaty tan face but then it falls right as the bag of rocks sinks into the booby-trap.

In a straight and measured tone, Zoe says, “You two would be spending a lot of time together…”

His heart twitches out of its quiet rest. The bird song has passed and it’s time for it to rise up and move on. He sinks away from the movie and everything else, swimming towards the hazy beginnings of a good thought. In a contemplating manner he says, “I think that would actually be kind of good, though. Spending time like that? I think it would be good for us.” The pictures in his head suddenly sharpen and turn crisp. _ They show him someplace warm and sunny, like Spain or France. He can see rolling green hills and a river twinkling by, like a lady’s sparkling scarf. He pictures him and Jared, happy to be where they are, spending time together again after spending so much of it apart at home. Memories of what it was like before they had each other would resurface and they’d stick to each other because it’s better than being alone. _Evan sits up, an idea arriving to his mind’s eye in a perfectly wrapped gift-basket, as if some diety placed it there for him to pick up. Excited, he turns to Zoe and says, “It’d be the perfect time to propose!” 

Zoe nearly drops her mug, she sputters, “Wait, what? _ Propose? _You still want to do that after tonight?” 

He does not hear her. He’s lost in his fantasy. He pictures himself kneeling on the dewy green grass and opening his ring box. The sunlight would dance on the ring, like a ray of light shot it down into his fingers---the moment wouldn’t possibly be able to be more perfect. 

“Evan?”

Zoe’s concerned and incredulous face suddenly comes into focus and Evan is brought back into reality. The pictures of some far off, sunny place fade away; leaving him with the knowledge of what must be done. “I know what I need to do.” The sudden, intense desire to do something courses through him, launching him to his feet.

He says, “I need to go back. I need to apologize.” He wants to race back home and convince Jared that going on the trip would really really be a good idea. That he doesn’t care anymore that he kept it from him in the first place. That that’s ok._ Everything’s ok. _

In a rush he downs his cup of tea, places it on the table and then bolts for his jacket. Zoe hurriedly says, “Evan, wait! What are you doing?” She’s looking at him like he’s gone insane.

Evan forces himself to pause and take a breath, “I can’t wait, Zoe. I’m sorry. I need to do this now.” He apologetically slips on his jacket and checks his pocket for his keys. 

They aren’t there.

He checks his other pocket.

They aren’t there either. 

He spots them on the kitchen table but before he can go get them, Zoe runs and snatches them up. She hides them behind her back and firmly says, “No, Evan. You’re not doing this. I’m making an executive decision here and I really think you need to _really_ _think about this.”_

Evan stretches his hand out, “Zoe, I need my keys. I need to go. This isn’t funny.” He can already feel the time slipping away. He’s spent far too long here and the longer he stays the less he has a chance at fixing everything. 

Zoe steps back and shakes her head, “No offense, but that is like the worst idea.” The words sting. A small voice inside of him suggests in a little whisper: maybe she’s right. But the bigger part of him that’s crushed by a giant hourglass screams over it in painful urgency. 

Evan paces in the entry-way of the house, his heart is beating briskly, as if it's torn itself away from his body and has started running towards his apartment and the mess he left of it. The fear that if he leaves everything left unfixed for too long seizes him with thoughts that it may already be too late and that he’ll go home to nothing. In a quiet whisper, he says, “Please, my keys.” His vision blurs, it may or may not be because of the tears beginning to well up into his eyes. It’s all too easy for them to rise up again, it wasn’t too long ago when they were tapped into after all. Maybe two hours? He checks the time. It's ten-thirty now. He staggers and briefly leans against the wall, the knowledge of the time does nothing to sate his growing panic. Again, he says, “My keys.”

Zoe straightens her back and she stiffly says, as if it’s hard to get the words out, “No.”

He steps towards Zoe and clasps his hands in front of his chest. “Please, I need to fix this.” Evan is very close to falling on his knees in desperation. 

Zoe glances into his eyes and wearily looks away. Her lips thin and she squeezes her eyes shut, “This is a bad idea.”

A brief flare of hope fires inside Evan. He can tell she’s close to giving in. He tries to contain his eagerness and levelly says, “It’s not. Trust me.” 

Zoe opens her eyes and looks at him with great sadness. Defeatedly, and with a slightly shaking hand, she gives him his keys. Evan nearly cries right then and there. Zoe glares at him, “Damn you and your fucking puppy-dog eyes.” Her voice breaks at the end of that and she rubs her eyes. 

Evan clutches his keys tight, the teeth of them digging into his hands but he’s so relieved to have them back. He gives Zoe a tight hug, “Thank you! You won’t regret this!” He flings the door open and turns to give her one last grin. His smile slightly falls when he sees her dejected expression staring back at him. She silently crosses her arms and watches him as he leaves. 

Evan thinks he heard her quietly say, “What if I already do?” But it could’ve been the crackle of the leaves under his shoes as he stepped into his car. 

********

**4 months before Connor vanished.**

_There’s an ocean and a bridge. Evan stands at the edge of a cliff, and a beautiful bridge made of tree vines and thick blooming flowers shoots off and connects to a giant violet cloud. Beneath him is a silent ocean, it roils and froths like a wild dragon a thousand feet down. Evan steps onto the bridge. A flower pops right beneath his toes and unfurls into a bright red firework. The bridge wobbles. His heart jumps. Someone grabs his hand and gently says Everything is going to be ok. He looks up and--- _

There’s a ray of light directly hitting his eyes. Evan squeezes his eyes shut and squishes his face into his pillow while pulling his other pillow closer and breathing in deep. His bed is warm and perfect. Evan tightens his arm around his pillow and exhales a content breath, fluttering his eyes open and squinting against the light that awoke him. He wonders what he was dreaming about, something about a flower and a bridge? There was someone with him. He's right in the middle of internally grumbling about his interrupted dream when he freezes. 

_I don’t have another pillow._

Like an anvil dropping out of the sky, Evan is hit with an appalling realization: _he's cuddling Connor_. Whatever sleepiness he had felt gets absolutely vaporized as his heart starts racing a million miles per second. He's suddenly hyper-aware of the way his head, ever so slightly, dips and lifts with Connor's breath. The odd drumming he was vaguely registering in the back of his head is actually Connor's heartbeat. The soft weight tucked under Evan's arm and hand is actually Connor's torso and not a mysterious second pillow. There's also the fact that he's one hundred percent positive he feels a cool pool of drool on Connor’s chest. 

Evan screams inside.

He would let go but the mortification of holding onto Connor like a teddy bear has paralyzed his limbs. Would Connor notice if Evan suddenly stopped breathing? Is he even awake? Through a delirious fever, he thinks that if Connor is still asleep Evan can gently disentangle them and then escape. Connor wouldn't need to know anything. His half-formed plan is dashed to pieces when Connor mumbles, “G’morning.” 

Evan hurls himself away from Connor so fast and strong that he smacks his head on the wall---hard. He groans and rubs the angrily throbbing spot on the back of his head. 

Through the brief flash of pain, he hears Connor say, “Holy shit, Evan! Are you ok?” 

Evan covers his face and exclaims, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to--to--hug you like that!” His head is spiraling in a bright green whirlpool of humiliation. He’s dangerously close to leaping over Connor and crawling under his bed. Maybe if he crawls far enough he’ll find a trapdoor that he can slip into and time travel and pull Past Evan away from snuggling Past Connor in his sleep. 

In a sleep-muddled voice, Connor says, “It’s ok, Evan.” 

Evan can’t look at him. He must be looking with disgust at the spot on his shirt where Evan had drooled on it. 

Connor is _ never _going to come back. 

“Hey, look at me.” Evan waits a second and then he wearily pulls his hands away. Connor has himself propped on his elbow. His hair hangs down all tangled. He looks impossibly soft in the morning. “It’s fine.” His eyes twinkle slightly, crinkling into a light smile.

Evan keeps himself pressed against the wall, making sure there’s as much space as he can make between them. He mumbles, “If you say so.” 

Connor plops back down and rests his hands on his chest with a soft, content smile playing at the edges of his mouth. There’s at best, a hand-width of space between them because Evan’s bed is damnably small. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so close to Connor that, if he wanted to, he could count the number of faint freckles that dot his pale cheeks. Evan tries to look away but there's not much else he can look at since he still has himself pressed against the wall. Connor looks distinctly undisturbed about what happened and yet Evan _has _to move. The wall is doing wicked things to his back so Evan quickly crawls out of his blankets, stands, and shuffles his way to the edge of the bed. He quickly balances on the bed frame and then hops off, successfully landing with both feet on the ground. He looks back at Connor who, to his surprise, has one hand pressed over his mouth. 

Evan furrows his brows, “What?”

Connor finally laughs, pressing his face into Evan’s pillow.

Evan cocks his head to the side, genuinely curious, “Connor, what is it?” He checks himself, making sure he didn’t sleep walk and take his clothes off in the middle of the night or something. 

“Dude,” Connor lifts his face just enough to speak and says in broken words, “I-I could’ve moved if you told me you had to get up b-but you just suddenly started _ walking _ on your bed.” He rubs his eyes and then grins, “You looked so serious too.”

Evan sheepishly chuckles and thinks he must have looked pretty ridiculous---but it made Connor laugh so that’s alright.

While he stands there he realizes that it’s a curious sight seeing someone in his bed---in fact, it's almost disconcerting. Evan is so used to seeing his bed empty and waiting expectantly for its sole occupant at the end of the day (which would be himself). But now Connor is in it, with his brown hair pooling around Evan’s maroon pillow and the blanket pulled up to his waist. The sun (which actually seems a bit too high) seems to cast a spotlight on Connor’s smiling face and Evan remembers just how _ close _they were. In a fleeting thought, as brief as a water drop, imagines what the two of them must have looked like. A small wave of heat pools all over him as he imagines what it would have been like if Connor were hugging him back. He thinks that their hearts must have been beating in tandem at one point. 

Connor gives him a curious look, and briefly touches his face, “Is there something on my face?”

Evan snaps out of his thoughts and stammers, “No! No, just your face is on your face. Don't worry, It’s all good. _ You _ are all good,” Evan gives a shaky thumbs up. Was that even coherent? _ What am I saying? What is wrong with me? _

Connor slowly says,“Okaaay. Good. I’m glad my face is on my face…” 

“Sorry.”

Connor raises his brows in amusement, “What?”

Is it possible for the Earth to cave in? Can it make an Evan shaped hole and take him away from the embarrassment of staring at Connor for too long? It certainly feels like his inner organs have jumped off a plane. And look, there’s his heart! Free-falling without a parachute. What an idiot. 

He squeaks, “I---” Evan excuses himself to go to the bathroom. While he runs he sink, he gives himself a minute to feel absolute devastating mortification about the position he found himself in a couple minutes ago. Through the rush of embarrassment, he thinks about how it was actually kind of nice. Connor’s warm chest was firm and soft in a way a pillow could never be. Being close to his friend like that had provided a simple physical closeness that Evan hadn’t realized he needed. He smelled like Evan’s own clothes; however, there was something else---like clean soap underneath all that. Just, simple clean soap. A little sweet and a little clear, almost like what he imagines a cloud would smell like. He wants to be near him again so he can smell what that other scent he picked up on was. It smelled a little earthy and deep, like pine. Or maybe sage. 

He's starting to think that he wouldn't mind cuddling Connor again.

In a fit of self-admonishment, Evan lightly hits his head against the door and curses under his breath. He stashes those thoughts away, vowing to never remember them again. He can't be thinking of his friend---no, his _best _friend---that way. It's wrong and a betrayal of Connor's trust in him. Fortified with these thoughts, Evan splashes his face one last time and wipes it dry with a towel. He glares and wags a finger at himself in the mirror. _Remember, don't do that again._

When Evan returns to his room, he’s a little disappointed to find Connor already redressed in his clothes from yesterday. His hair is still unbrushed and blooms around his face like dark plumes of a feather. Connor carefully finishes folding up Evan’s shirt and gently places it on the unmade bed, “Um. Thanks for letting me use these.” 

“Of course,” Evan scratches his head and doesn’t make eye contact. It’s probably better that Connor got ready. In the early morning sunlight it would have felt weird to lay back down in bed with Connor. It would’ve been too intimate. Maybe even more than snuggling him as tightly as he had been. The air in the room is a little awkward. Evan rushes through things he can do. A million ideas laser beam into his head. One of them shines brighter. He blurts, “Toothbrush!”

Connor blinks, “Toothbrush?”

Evan fidgets with his hands, “You need one.”

Connor gives a small shrug, “I guess I do.” He stretches his arms upwards and gives a big yawn. 

Evan takes that opportunity to leave. He declares “I’ll go check if I have one” and goes to rummage through their bathroom cabinet. He starts to get frustrated when he can’t find one. Muttering about how he could have sworn they had an extra. 

Evan jumps when Connor quietly comes up to him and says, “If you can’t find one I’ll just use my finger. I should probably be getting home anyway so I can do it there…” Connor shrugs and then crooks a smile, “Unless my breath is _ that _ awful right now.” He huffs a breath into his hand and checks it. Raising his brows as if impressed and disgusted. 

“No, It’s not bad at all. It’s not like I’m right in your face or something.” Evan pauses, “Wait, that made it sound like it is bad---which it’s not...It’s not bad. I’ll stop talking.” Evan pinches the bridge of his nose and hangs his head. It’s too early in the morning to be like this. Exasperated with himself, he asks, “What time is it right now anyway?”

Connor doesn’t even check his phone, “Eleven.”

Evan gasps, “_Eleven??”_

Connor nonchalantly leans against the bathroom doorframe, “Eleven _ a.m. _ In case you were wondering.”

Evan throws down whatever he was holding, “Oh my God. I can’t believe it.” He squeezes past Connor and rushes out of the bathroom and cries, “I have an appointment with Dr. Sherman in thirty minutes!!”

With slight alarm, he hears Connor ask, “Is that your therapist?”

_"Yes.” _Evan stumbles into his room and almost trips on nothing. 

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah, _ fuck. _ ” Evan furiously nods his head, and grabs a clean shirt and pants from his dresser. He changes right there on the spot, throwing on a green polo and hopping into his khakis. As he’s slipping on his socks, he looks up and catches Connor standing at his door. His cheeks are a rosy pink as he fixedly stares up at the ceiling like the plastic stars have the answers to secrets of the universe. Evan winces and accidentally tangles his fingers in his shoelaces, “Sorry, I’m in a rush. I need to catch the bus like _ right now. _” 

Connor cautiously looks at him, as if unsure if it's ok to do so. When he sees Evan has fully-dressed he says, “I can give you a ride?” 

“You can?” Evan dashes past him, he grabs his wallet and checks if he has cash, “Your parents aren’t waiting for you?”

“They aren’t even in town. Let’s go,” Connor spins his keys around his finger and starts stepping towards the door. 

Evan checks the time. By now he’s most definitely missed the bus. If he doesn’t go to Dr. Sherman’s appointment they’ll still charge his mom for the time he missed. His mom will think he deliberately skipped again and get very upset. Her anger would be warranted because they don’t have that kind of money to just throw away like that. 

Evan reluctantly accepts Connor’s offer. 

When they are in the car he tells him, “I’m sorry for having you drive me everywhere...”

Connor waves a hand and simply says, “You’re not making me do this. I offered.”

Evan chews on his lip and quietly asks, “But what about gas?”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it. It’s not like we’re driving to Miami or something.” Connor presses the button for the radio. Meaning, it's the end of the discussion.

The drive is relatively shorter than the route the bus usually takes so Evan ends up with a little over five minutes to before his therapy session. Connor pulls his car up in front of Dr. Sherman’s office, it’s in a squat building by a small residential park. Evan tells Connor his therapy session will be about fifty minutes and that if he wants to leave, Evan can take the bus back home. Connor just ushers him inside the building and says he’ll be at the library around the corner. 

When Evan’s session is over he feels a little out of sorts, as if all the parts that make up Evan were taken out of their boxes and then scrambled into different places. He usually never plans on divulging too much during his sessions with Dr. Sherman, but this morning had set him off-kilter and made him less prepared to evade most of her questions. Of course, he didn’t bring up Connor and what happened that morning, of course. But, he talked about other things that he usually tries to avoid. Like his dad---that was weird. He hasn’t thought about him in a while and yet he came up out of nowhere. 

When he finds Connor at the library a little bit of normalcy rushes in and soothes his head. 

They decide to walk the streets for a bit, passing small stores and peering into shop windows they find interesting. Eventually, they enter a deli and order sandwiches to take to the park. Once they are given their food, they find a nice park table and settle beneath the shade of a tall evergreen.

While having lunch, Connor introduces Evan to a game where they make up stories for the people that pass by their table. At first, the stories were meant to be within the realm of reason, but then the stories slowly unwinded into the borderline fantastical. Once the game dies, they sit in an agreeable silence in which Connor takes out markers and draws little patterns on his hands and wrists. For the better part of an hour, Evan rests his head on his hands and watches as Connor fills up the spaces between his knuckles and up his thin fingers. “You’re ambidextrous?”

Connor chews on his lip in concentration as he adds a couple of thin lines to his pinky, “Yep.” With a flourish he drags a straight line down the center of each hand and studies them with a pleased expression. He suddenly says, “I can do your hands too?” He flips them around, so Evan can see both sides of the spider web-like designs. There are thin and thick lines running through his hands and reaching out onto his wrists slightly. Some of them are stripes and some of them are waves or circles. Honestly, it looks a little cool. 

He kind of wouldn’t mind if Connor drew on his hands. He asks, “Um what kind of markers are they?” He wonders if they’re easily washable or if they have any toxins he should be aware of. 

Connor plays around with one marker, spinning it through his fingers, “I can tell you they sure aren’t Sharpies. These are regular markers.” He passes one to Evan so he can look at it and then shuffles through his bag. He pulls out a different, slightly longer marker, “This is a henna pen.” He tugs at his ear and looks down, suddenly slightly self-conscious, “I draw on my arms sometimes using them. They just last a little longer.” He pushes his sleeves up a little, as far as they’ll go. Evan catches a glimpse of interconnected lines and swirls and maybe even some birds but then Connor pulls his sleeves down. Eyes downcast. 

Evan blinks at him, he’s never seen Connor without long-sleeved shirts. He never thought that beneath sleeves, Connors arms had works of art on them. 

When Evan doesn't say anything, Connor caps and uncaps the marker quickly, “So, no?” Evan can tell he’s buzzing with creative energy. He wants to draw more, and Evan’s hands may be the next canvas. Something about that thought makes his stomach flutter like a bird's wing. 

Evan places his hands on the table, he clears his throat, “Why not? Go ahead.” 

A quick grin jumps on Connor's face. Unexpectedly, he stands up, coming around the side and settling down beside Evan. He hooks one leg over the table bench and scoots forward, henna pen ready in hand. Evan uncertainly moves his left hand closer to Connor and rests it between them, no longer stretching it across the table. Connor eyes his hand, as if seeing patterns and illustrations that are invisible to everyone else but him. He taps his pen against the table and then asks him what he would like but Evan just shrugs and says nothing too big. With that, Connor leans against the table and bends his head over Evan's hand to start drawing.

For a brief, brief moment, a flash of hesitancy passes over Connors face before he delicately presses his marker onto Evan's skin. Evan is briefly shocked by the cool touch of the pen. For the first couple of minutes, he can't see what Connor is doing but the pen moves in an almost diamond-like shape very briefly before jumping to another spot just below his wrist. Once Connor has gone above the line of his wrist and entered the back of his hand with the same pattern, Evan realizes that Connor has been drawing a band of leaves trailing their way up to his fingers. 

When Connor draws, he always keeps his face low to the paper, even if it means he has to hunch over at an angle that must strain his neck. Drawing on Evan's hand is no different. Along with the brush of the pen, Evan can feel the soft brush of Connor's breaths on his hand. It's very slight. Such a small sensation that Evan may even be imagining it. But he's almost sure he can feel it because the summer air is so still. They don't talk while Connor draws. That's another thing that remains the same. Evan doesn't know where to look or what to do while Connor draws on his hand so he settles for staring at Connor's progress and then glancing at the people passing by. 

Sooner than expected, Evan watches as Connor finishes his band of leaves just below the nail of Evan's ring finger. 

Connor caps his pen and nods to himself. 

Evan lifts his hand and lifts it up so it catches the sunlight. 

The ink is an earthy brown and Evan marvels at seeing something so pretty grace his hand. Evan leans his head in slightly closer to look at his hand. The leaves look like little butterfly wings. He smiles to himself. 

Connor fiddles with the marker, "Is it small enough? I did the best I could."

Evan pulls his eyes away from his hand and says, "It's perfect. I--I like it a lot, actually." 

Connor gives him a small, pleased smile, "Cool."

Connor drags his sketchbook from the other side of the table and resumes drawing. Evan rests his hand on his arm and they fall back into a comfortable silence. Evan may or may not have dozed off for a bit because when he next opens his eyes the sun is slightly lower than when he had last looked at it. Connor still sits beside him but his sketchbook is closed and his markers and pencils are stashed away in his bulging pencil case. He has his hands clasped in front of him and resting on the table---an unusual sight---he has the kind of look of someone who had been staring off into the horizon, deep in thought. Connor glances at him and sees that Evan is awake. He looks away. 

“Can I ask you something?”

Evan tenses. That question is a land-mine. It can literally mean anything. Evan slowly lifts his head, “What is it?”

“When we go back to school, can we--” Evan notices his hands grip each other tighter. Connor dips his head and runs his hands through his hair, clutching the strands briefly before letting go. He doesn't look at Evan when he says, “I don’t know how to ask this without it sounding bad.”

Evan shakily says, “No offense, it already sounds kind of bad…” He’s fighting some serious fight or flight instincts right now. His leg is jumping up and down like crazy and he's starting to get a stomach ache. "Did I do something wrong? Please tell me if I did." Evan's breaths are starting to come in quick, "I know I can ramble and say a lot of things but most of things are meaningless and---"

Connor blurts, “I need us to pretend we don’t know each other at school.” 

For a second Evan can’t speak. Something is hurting inside him, it stumbles around in pain as if its been shot. He knew this friendship was too good to be true. He knew that one day Connor wouldn’t want to be friends anymore. With far more ease than Evan would have expected due to the brick currently lodged in his throat, he asks, “Why?” Tears threaten to well up in his eyes, he’s doing very little to stop them from spilling over. 

Connor “Haven't you ever wondered why I haven’t invited you to my house?”

Evan shakes his head. What does that have to do with anything? Is it because Evan is too embarrassing to bring to his home? 

Connor’s suddenly flares up and he says, “Whatever you’re thinking right now I want you to forget it because it’s not you. The problem is _ not _you.” He fiercely holds eye-contact with Evan until Evan realizes that Connor wants him to confirm he understands. He whispers, “Okay.”

With that, Connor looks away and says, “It’s because of my family.” His jaw works and he clenches his fists, “If we’re seen together at school, my sister will see us and then she’ll tell my parents. I really don’t want that.” A faint tinge of apology colors his next words, “Listen, if they were different I would want them to know you. But they _ aren’t _ and---it’s complicated. I just want these two worlds separated, do you understand?” 

Evan sits in silence. He thinks about what Connor just said and for some reason it makes him think of Jared. _ Family friends. _Why do both of his only friends want to pretend to not be associated with him? There must be some sort of reason.

Is this all some sort of cosmic joke? 

Connor stresses, “Again, it’s not because of you.”

Evan tries to discreetly rub his stinging eyes. His voice slightly quavers when he asks, “What if I say no? Could we still be friends?”

Connor doesn’t say anything. 

That’s all the answer Evan needed.

Something breaks inside him, it dully snaps in half and forlornly clutters to the ground. Evan looks away, “I need to think about it.”

Connor gets up and fumbles for a cigarette, Dejection shadows his eyes. He leans against a tree and smokes it there. Evan rests his head on his arms and stares at the people passing by and thinks. 

************

For the first time as a Senior, Evan steps into school. 

Somehow, it always comes as a surprise to see the sheer number of students buzzing around the halls. Students crowd the halls running up to friends they haven’t seen in a long time, regrouping around certain lockers, or simply aimlessly walking around until classes start. 

Evan sincerely dislikes it all. 

He tries to make himself small and unnoticeable as he makes his way to his locker. Along the way, Alana Beck bumps into him and asks him about his summer. Except, she doesn’t really give him a chance to say much before she solemnly tells him her grandma died by slipping in the bathtub. He tries to tell her he’s sorry to hear that but she walks away sadly. 

Evan manages to make it to his locker and shakily opens it. He feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It must be Connor. Evan pulls it out and checks. 

**Connor: **r u at school already?

Evan is about to respond when someone loudly declares, “No need to text me. I’m here.” Jared cockily stands there, arms crossed and wearing his perpetually self-amused expression. 

“Oh, hey Jared.” He discreetly tries to look past Jared for any sight of Connor but fails. 

Jared steps closer and looks around the hall himself, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you thought I was someone else. But I _ do _know better because you don’t know anyone else.” Jared’s eyes drop to Evan’s arm, “Hey, what’s up with your arm?” He lifts both of Evan’s arms up by the wrists and looks at them closely, he giggles incredulously, “This one is a whole-ass shade paler than your other arm. What on Earth were you doing this summer?”

Evan flushes in embarrassment and hugs his arms to himself, “I---I actually broke my arm. I fell out of a tree.”

He raises his eyebrows, “You fell? What, are you secretly an acorn?”

“Well, you see. I was Jr. Park Ranger at Ellison Park so, I guess you can say I’m somewhat of a tree expert now.” Evan glances at Jared and he does not look impressed. He’s just looking at him with that glazed look that says he’s seconds away from mentally checking out. Evan stutters, “A-anyways, I was at the park and I climbed a tree but something happened and I fell.” He looks down at his shoes, “That’s how I broke it.”

Jared shakes his head, “Wow, I don’t know why I’m even surprised. You can’t bust your arm doing something original? Like you couldn’t have tried being the first person to ever break their arm while jacking off?” 

Evan jolts and hugs his arm to himself, “What?! It’s not like I went outside that day and decided I would break my arm.”

Jared shakes his head long-sufferingly,“Whatever dude, if you ever want to grievously injure yourself again, come to me and I’ll give you fresh, cool, ideas. It’s what I’m here for,” he pats Evan on the shoulder and pushes up his glasses. “So anyway, enough about that---” He changes the subject to himself and about his time at Jewish Camp. 

Evan checks the time while Jared chatters about this girl he nearly went to third base with. Class is about to start soon and he hasn’t seen Connor anywhere. He hasn’t gotten any new messages, a quick glance at his notifications could tell him that. “She was like, wanna come back with---” Evan startles slightly when Jared suddenly points at something behind him, “Oh shit, get a look at this dude.”

Evan turns to see Connor walking through the hall, head down and swiftly walking through the path that students automatically make for him. The path is barely noticeable---but it’s there. It’s there in the way students blankly step aside for the tall boy. There’s a negative magnetic attraction happening there. Everyone glances off Connor, moving around him like little fishes might avoid a shark. Evan notices these things he’s never noticed before but it pays no credence to the wave of joy that strikes him from seeing his friend. 

Evan only just stops himself from waving at him, he needs to remember what they agreed about the other day. 

Jared cups his hands over his mouth and yells, “Hey, Murphy! Diggin’ the new hair cut. _ Very _school-shooter chic!”

Evan freezes.

Connor catches sight of them and barely-perceptible hurt crosses his expression before it fires into anger. His long legs hurtle him towards them. The magnetic negativity works again, people move for him, except there’s energy sizzling in each pair of eyes that flit towards the potential oncoming scene. 

Evan rounds on Jared and hisses, “Why did you say that?”

Jared has enough time to scowl irritably at Evan before Connor angrily rounds on him, “What did you say to me?”

Surprised, Jared backs up, “Woah man, it’s just a joke.” 

Connor flatly says, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m laughing can’t you tell?” There’s a dead beat of silence where Connor just darkly glowers at Jared. 

Uncomfortable, Jared fidgets on the spot, face paling. He takes a slight step behind Evan and sharply says, “You need to learn how to take a joke.” 

Connor’s eyes narrow, “Try and be funnier, then.”

Jared ignores Connor and weakly turns to Evan, “You thought it was funny, right?” His eyes probe Evan’s, beseechingly asking him to agree.

Evan silently shakes his head.

A wounded expression briefly flashes through Jared’s face before he glares at Evan, perhaps even more upset at Evan than at Connor. Jared shoves past Connor, “Out of my way, freak!” He disappears amongst the crowd. 

The sizzling energy in the hall dissipates as Evan catches the people surrounding them losing interest.

Connor grips the strap of his messenger tightly and tears his gaze away from where Jared disappeared. He looks tense, like he’s ready for someone else to shout something cruel about him. Evan doesn’t know what to do but Connor quietly says, “Thank you.” He quickly turns on his heel and disappears as well, leaving Evan alone at his locker. 

Later that day, Evan sits at the computer lab. He has to write a letter to himself as an assignment from his therapist. 

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_Today_

“Hey.” Evan lifts his head from his computer screen and is surprised to see Connor apprehensively standing there. Evan didn’t even hear the door open or anything. 

“Hey.”

Connor slides into the computer lab chair and rocks side to side, “What’re you doing?” He throws his bag on the floor. 

Evan considers closing the document but Connor leans in to look at Evan’s screen, “What’s this? Is this a letter to yourself?”

“Basically.” Embarrassed, Evan says, “It’s this thing I have to do for my therapist...I’m, like, supposed to write about the things I want to happen during the day or whatever...”

Connor tiredly leans back on his chair, pushing it as far back as it'll go. Evan takes a moment to study his friend. His movements are slow and Evan senses a slight cloud hangs over him. These kinds of clouds make it harder for smiles to spark on Connor's face. With a slight frown Connor says, “My therapist never made me do things like that.” He keeps rocking side to side in his chair, looking somewhere above Evan's shoulder. 

Evan says, “You’re lucky.”

Connor shakes his head, “Not really, she enabled my mom with her crazy ideas about yoga retreats and spa days. I had to draw the line at the healing crystals.”

Evan raises his eyebrows at that, “Now I don’t know who’s the lucky one.”

Connor snorts, and takes a spin in his seat, “We both need therapy for our fucked up parts. I’d say neither one of us are."

Evan sighs, “Fair enough.” Evan considers closing the document and restarting his letter to his therapist another day, but then he gets an idea. While Connor rests his head in his arms, Evan works on something else. 

<strike>_Dear Evan Hansen _ </strike>

_Dear Connor Murphy, _

_Today kind of sucked. I'm sorry about Jared. He can be an ass. I hope the rest of your day went by fine. I saw we share English together so that's cool. You were sitting all the way in the back---which is totally fine! The back of the class is cool. I would've joined you except I like sitting closer to the front so I can hear everything. You might think that that's kind of lame because it's not like it helps my grades in anyway but it's a habit. Can't teach a dog new tricks. _

_Anyways, at least we're in the same row by the windows. That kind of counts for something. _

_Can you believe we made it through the first day of senior year? Another one hundred and something days to go! I think when I get home I’m going to lay down and do nothing. _

_I miss summer already. _

_Sincerely,_

_Evan Hansen_

Evan pauses. He reads it over and is suddenly struck with the overwhelming urge to delete all traces of this letter because it's incredibly stupid. Connor wouldn't want this. Why on Earth would he want Evan's ramblings written down in the form of a letter? Evan is about to delete it all when Connor turns his head on his arms and blinks up at him. His eyes silently fall on Evan's computer screen and he curiously lifts his head up and, once again, leans in closer to Evan's screen. His eyes dart around, reading the letter quietly. 

Too late to delete it now. Evan may as well just go catch a greyhound bus to nowhere, change his name and start over in someplace called Failureville, You-Suck. 

Connor rests his head on his arms again and says, “I miss summer too.” Connor doesn't look upset or weirded out by Evan's letter. In fact, he looks a little more present. Like the clouds have receded somewhat. He asks him, “Are you still tired?”

Evan fidgets with his hands and tries to joke, “In some ways, I think I always am.” It falls flat. 

“Mood.”

There’s not much to be said after that. Evan goes to close out the tab when Connor says, "Wait." He sits up, "Can I print it?"

Evan points at the document, almost in disbelief, “You want this? It’s---"

Connor gently moves Evan's hand from the mouse and clicks 'print.'

The printer starts briskly making its drumming noise in the corner of the room. Connor stands beside it until the paper jumps out onto the tray. In a mix of incredulity and pleasure, Evan watches as Connor picks it up and carefully stows it away in a pocket of his messenger bag. He swings the strap of it over his head, getting ready to leave. Connor pauses by the door. Hand resting on the door knob. He abruptly says, “You know, I appreciate it. This whole keeping our friendship under wraps thing.”

Evan nods and bends to pick up his backpack. “W-we can still hangout outside of school, right?” They already talked about this but Evan felt the need to ask again. 

“Of course, I mean,” With a hint of uncertainty, Connor asks, “If you still want to?”

“Yeah, I do.” Evan tugs on the strings of his backpack, making them tighter without really meaning to, “What about you?”

Connor quirks a brow, “I haven’t changed my mind within the last twenty minutes if that’s what you’re asking.” He smiles. It's the first smile he's seen on him today. 

Evan chuckles in relief, “Okay.” 

Connor pulls out his phone and rolls his eyes, “I need to go now. Zoe will leave without me if I don’t.” Connor pushes the handle down. Evan goes to follow him but then Connor says, “Maybe wait a couple minutes after I leave to come out.” He looks down and away, hiding behind his hair. 

Evan takes a couple steps back and sits down, “Right, sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. He was about to step outside next to Connor. He gives a little wave, shoulder hunching up by his ears, “Alright. See you tomorrow?” He phrases it like a question when he didn’t really mean to.

Connor lifts his head and gives him one last, grateful smile, “See you.” He disappears behind the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want you all to know I actually like Jared. I don't find any pleasure in writing him like this. This beginning part was really hard to write, it was sitting in my drafts for mooontthss until I asked my friend, Silent_Femme to look at it and help me touch it up into what it is now. So thank you my lovely, amazing friend!
> 
> If the ending to this chapter seems like I'm leaving things from the beginning unfinished it's because I actually split a mega-chapter into two parts so I'm not hitting you all with nearly 12,000 words of writing. I'll update the second half the day after tomorrow (crossing my fingers). I really appreciate any comments you might have!! The only reason I wrote this mega-update was because of the wonderful comments I got last time. They gave me super strength stg!


	8. Promises II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second half! Sorry for any mistakes in this one, I did my best to look out for anything screwy but alas I cannot catch everything.

**4 months before Connor vanished. **

Finding a table is the hardest part. 

Sometimes when he looks for a table he gets the impression that whoever designed this building deliberately made it so that there would be just a few tables less than what was actually needed to seat every student.There’s so many people and he doesn’t want to look at any of their faces because they might make eye contact and that’s weird. What do you do after that? Smile? If he randomly smiled at someone they’d think he was a creep. Or worse, they might try and start a conversation. 

Eventually, Evan does find a spot way in the back of the cafeteria. He glances at the people sitting there but they don’t even seem to notice that he’s there. Evan tears a small piece of his grilled cheese and chews on it, trying to ignore the dry taste of toast that sticks too much to the roof of his mouth. 

There are hardly any windows in the cafeteria, most of all the light comes from the rows upon rows of ceiling lights. They beam overhead, strong and distant. Evan thinks that it’s a shame the school doesn't just collapse one of the walls to make an all-window wall. The view outside would be very nice. There are all these trees outside this side of the school. Even if the view would have been only of the street outside, that would have been better than no windows at all. 

He pulls out his phone and scrolls through Tumblr. He follows a lot of nature blogs and sees a bunch of posts of people hiking in beautiful trails he will likely never be able to go to.

Suddenly, he gets a text.

**Connor: **I’m out in my car. Wanna come over?

**Evan: **YES

Evan blushes. He didn’t mean to type that all in caps. He’s about to apologize when he gets another text. 

**Connor: **Golly I don’t think I’ve ever been so flattered

Evan groans and slaps a hand to his forehead. The girl sitting next to him looks at him. Evan gives a nervous chuckle and she blankly looks back down at her phone. Evan curses himself. He can never sit next to this girl with the purple hair ever again. Evan quickly moves and grabs his things, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He holds tight to his tray of food and speed-walks out of the cafeteria. 

Outside, Evan spots Connor’s gray car instantly. He checks to see if there are any cars coming and runs up to it. He tries the handle. It’s open. Evan leans down and gives Connor a little wave, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Connor sits in the driver’s seat. He has a grilled cheese as well, and most of it is finished by the look of the missing other half. He’s relaxed in his seat has an arm thrown around his seat. A small smile rests on his face and he looks happy to see Evan. He reaches out a hand, “Pass me your tray. I’ll hold it so you can throw your backpack in the back.”

Evan does so. He places his backpack next to Connor’s messenger bag that looks like it was thrown into the back seat. Evan wonders how the pins on his bag stay on if he always throws his bag around like that. When Evan slips into the car he automatically reaches for the seatbelt, pulls it over himself and locks it. Connor silently passes Evan back his food. Evan rips another piece of his sandwich and pops it in his mouth. He looks at Connor and notices he has a smile twitching on his lips. This smile is different than the other because Connor is clearly amused about something---Evan can tell due to the way his nose is starting to scrunch up. It’s clear Connor is holding back a laugh. 

Evan slowly asks, “What is it?”

Connor snorts, a big smile takes over, nose finally scrunching up and everything, “Your seatbelt…” 

Evan looks down at it. He doesn’t get it. 

Connor finishes his sandwich and rests his head against the top of his seat. He says, almost fondly, “You buckled yourself in even if we’re not going anywhere.”

“Oh,” Evan scratches his warm cheek, “I’m sorry. I didn’t even notice.” Evan scrambles to unbuckle it when Connor stops his hand. 

“Leave it on if you want," he says. "I just pointed it out because it was cute.”

Evan quickly nods and bites off a big piece of his sandwich. 

He’s suddenly very aware of that little spot on the base of his index finger. When Connor touched it, it had felt like a ray of light bloomed right on the spot. It still tingles a little in warmth, as if a thin sun beam, thick with heat, is directly honing in on that particular spot.

But then the words sink in.

_ It was cute. _

Evan blinks rapidly. _ Cute. _

He stuffs more of his sandwich into his mouth. _ Cute. Cute. Cute. _

_Me?_

He accidentally breathes in and chokes. Connor swiftly pats him hard on the back and Evan is able to successfully swallow his food. Connor hands him his water bottle and Evan gratefully accepts it, he drinks deeply out of it. Connor asks with concern, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah.” Evan croaks. He can’t meet Connor’s eyes for a while. 

They are able to talk for a couple more minutes before they hear the bell signalling the end of lunch. 

As Evan grabs his backpack, Connor stays in the car. Evan curiously asks, “Aren’t you coming?”

Connor shrugs, “You know, we could ditch, right?”

Evan squints his eyes, “Have you_ met_ me? Do I look like I’d ditch?” Evan gestures at his clothes, as if that would explain anything. But Evan has often been told (by Jared) that he looks like a goody-goody that stepped straight off a catalogue for Catholic school uniforms (he's Jewish---both of them are). 

“You got me there,” Connor laughs. “Okay, we won’t.”

“So, you’re coming too?” They share the class coming up. It’s an English class. Evan secretly hopes that Connor will come with him. Even if they sit a couple seats away from each other at least Evan will know he's there in the same row, in the same class, listening to the same lecture. In fact, this class is one of the only classes besides AP Environmental Science that he actually looks forward to.

Connor wearily says, “Yeah…” Evan tries not to show how pleased he is to hear that. Connor gloomily gathers his things, “I’ll skip after this class.” He drags his feet as he walks across the parking lot towards the entrance of the school. Evan remembers not to follow him. 

As he watches him go, he calls, “Maybe I’ll join you. Wait up for me.”

Connor whips his head around, “Are you serious?”

Evan crooks a smile, “What do you think?”

Connor huffs, a strand of hair leaps up into the air, “You tease.” He flaps a hand at Evan and says, “One day you’ll change your mind. Just you wait.” 

********

Since that first day of school, Evan and Jared haven’t spoken once. Honestly, this is nothing very new. Evan is used to not talking to Jared for days at a time at school because Jared has other friends he likes to be with. 

But, it’s been a week. There’s never been a week long bout of silence between them at school. 

Evan thinks that Jared is still upset at him about the first day of school and that’s why he’s chosen to sit as far away from Evan as possible. Internally, Evan rolls his eyes at his behavior; but, there’s a deeper ache somewhere inside him that hurts when he thinks about it. Even if Jared has never been the _ perfect _ friend, he is still Evan’s friend. No matter what he says about “family friends” not meaning the same thing as real friendship. 

There's also the fact that, at school, Evan only knows two people. It hurts to have one of those two people be upset at him. 

During lunch, Evan tightly twists a napkin around in his hands and trips over his words as he tells Connor about his predicament. He describes how during math, which he and Jared share, they had to be paired up into partners. 

Jared knows that he hates it when they have to do that, so usually Jared will offer to partner up with him, albeit somewhat reluctantly. Evan could always rely on that. However, during class earlier that day, he left Evan to the dust as he had paired up with someone else, briefly glancing at Evan, but looking at him as if he weren’t there. 

He finishes telling his story with a series of questions that spew out of him like a geyser, “What do you think I should do? Should I apologize? I don’t know what I did. I think it was because of what I did during the first day of school, when he asked if I thought what he said was funny and I said no. Seriously, I don’t know what to do. I don’t like this.” His heart begins to race in his chest, making him want to slide out of Connor’s car and sit on the curb. Maybe go for a brisk walk around the school, maybe go home and hide beneath his blankets, maybe go up to Jared and ask him what’s wrong. 

When Evan looks up at Connor, he is stunned to see that Connor’s mouth is set in a grim line. Connor angrily says, “He’s a dick and I think you should say bon voyage to that asshole. Take this as a blessing and don’t do anything about it.”

Evan blurts, “If I do that then that’ll mean I won’t have anyone else!” 

Hurt flashes on Connor’s face and, realizing what he said, Evan gasps and says, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Connor’s face has gone carefully blank. Evan tries to explain, “I don’t---I don’t have very many p-people in my life. Besides you, I only have Jared and my mom. That’s it. But I don’t really count my mom because she’s _ my mom_, you know?" He chuckles nervously and hurriedly continues to say, "So, it’s just you and Jared. Even if he can be an ass...I can’t simply cut him entirely away from my life. If he’s gone, and if you were to go away...I don’t know what I’d do.”

Evan imagines never speaking to Jared again and never finding out why it happened in the first place. That would be _ awful_. They’ve known each other for so long, Jared has always been one of the only constants in his life. Even if they aren’t as close as they used to be, he’s always been a part of his life someway or another. 

Evan’s life is not very full. He’s a little planet in a big dark universe with, at best, three stars to keep him company. He chews on his lip, “Besides, he’s my oldest friend…” Evan accidentally tears the napkin in half. He grips both pieces in each hand. His hands are shaking, he stuffs them under his legs to still them. 

Connor still looks a little wounded by what Evan said but he says, “Just because you’ve known someone for a long time doesn’t mean that you’re obligated to stay with them. And, honestly, nor are they obligated to stay with you.”

“It’s never felt like an obligation---" He says quietly, "Not to me at least.”

“That’s because you’re a good person.”

Evan turns to meet Connor's eyes incredulously, “Me?”

Connor sits up and says with conviction, “Why the Hell would you waste your time on someone like me if you weren’t?” 

Evan is nearly struck speechless to hear Connor say that. Bewildered, he stammers, “B-but you don’t waste my time?”

“That’s exactly what I mean," Connor says seriously and his eyes bore into Evan's, as if seeing right through him. "You’re good. You’re nice.”

Evan pulls his hands out from beneath his legs and fiddles with his fingers. He sincerely tells Connor, “I think you’re nice too.” He feels flattered but also like it's a little undeserved. He doesn't really know what he's done to make Connor think that way of him.

Connor just laughs as if Evan said something funny. 

Evan looks at him again, feeling a little hurt himself, “Why are you laughing? I mean it.”

“It’s nothing.” Connor runs a hand through his hair with a small, pained smile. Minutes stretch where neither of them say anything, Connor stares out his window, facing away from Evan. 

Abruptly, Connor breaks the silence, he doesn’t quite look at Evan as he says. “I guess you should try and talk to him. If it really matters to you that much.” Connor frowns and glances at him, “I’ll only say this once more. I still think you’d be better off without him. But that’s just my opinion.” 

“Thank you, Connor.” Evan gives him a glowing look, he can feel it glimmering inside him like light in a fountain.

Connor scratches his slightly pink cheek and looks away, “No problem.”

********

“So, did you do it?”

Evan takes a deep breath and says, “No.”

“Why not?!” Connor winces as he hits his knees on the steering wheel, “Crap--.” When Evan looks at him ashamed, Connor changes his expression from a look of shock to careful-calmness. He lightly asks, "Why?"

Evan bursts with all the thoughts that were running through his head that day, “I wasn’t sure if I should text Jared and ask him what’s wrong or if I should do it in person. If I texted him that would’ve been easier but it would’ve seemed like I didn’t actually care. And then, if I asked him in person...I probably would not have been able to get the words out even if I planned exactly what I wanted to say.” He sinks into Connor’s passenger seat and sullenly takes a bite out of his apple. “So, I messed up today.”

Connor rubs his forehead and runs a hand through his hair. There’s a furrow in his brow as he thinks.

Evan absent-mindedly stares at his apple and says, “We made eye-contact today. It looked like he wanted to ask me something.”

Connor opens his mouth to say something and then furrows his brows. He wordlessly takes a sip out of his water bottle and then screws the cap back on. Deep in thought. 

He twists the apple in his hand and glumly takes another bite of it, “I know I messed up today but I’ll do it tomorrow. Maybe I’ll actually just text him tonight…”

“Do you---”

They both freeze when they hear a knock. A shadow falls over Connor's side of the car. Evan’s eyes widen to see who it is. Connor twists around, a scowl unfolding on his face, “Is it the Dean? Because eating outside is act---Holy fucking shit.” Connor indignantly rolls down his window and snaps, “What are you doing here?”

Jared completely ignores Connor as he and Evan make eye contact. His blue eyes go wide behind his glasses, “Evan?!”

“Jared?” 

“What are you doing here?” They both ask at the same time. Jared glares and then points at him through the window, “I asked you first. So you better give a good explanation as to why you’re in this psycho-path’s car!” 

“First of all, that’s rude. Second of all---hey, fuck you!” Connor snarls, “You’re in no place to talk. You’ve been ignoring Evan all week.”

Caught off guard, Jared asks, “How do you know that?” Then he quickly says, “And no I haven’t! Shut up.”

Evan mumbles, “You kind of have…Like in math class yesterday you paired off with someone else,” Connor points to Evan as if to prove a point. 

Shrinking, Jared sputters, "Well, you see--" And then his face goes red, “You know what? I don’t need this right now.” He quickly walks away without another word.

Connor and Evan look at each other in shock. Evan reaches for the door and says, “I should---I should follow him.” Evan doesn’t wait for an answer and stumbles after Jared. “Wait Jared!” He stops him on the sidewalk, a couple of feet away from Connor’s car. “Wait. Why h-have you been ignoring me?” 

Jared huffs and reluctantly turns to face him, “What? I haven’t been _ ignoring _you. If I were ignoring you why would I have come out here looking for you?”

“I don’t know. Why did you?”

Jared throws his hands in the air in frustration, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen you at lunch except for when you get food. After that you just go off somewhere.”

Evan is thoroughly confused, “Why would it matter, though? It’s not like you sit with me…”

“Yeah, I guess it doesn’t really matter because I just found you having a sandwich inside the resident Freak’s car_. _I don’t know what you’re doing Evan but I’ve decided I don’t care. If Murphy’s your drug dealer then good for you. I always thought you could benefit from a hit of weed.”

Evan balls his fists, “He’s not my drug dealer! D-don’t call him that.” 

Jared glares at something behind Evan. Evan turns to see Connor leaning against his car, semi-facing away from them and smoking as if he doesn’t know what happening a couple feet away from him. He spots Evan looking at him and does a peace sign. If he and Jared weren’t arguing Evan would actually find that pretty funny but he doesn’t laugh. Jared’s annoyance intensifies. He sharply asks, “What is he then?”

“He’s my---he’s my,” Evan trails away, he can’t call Connor his friend because Connor asked him to pretend they weren’t friends at school. But now that Jared’s found them together, there really is no helping it, “He’s my friend.”

Jared scoffs, “You’re friend? Excuse me if it’s easier for me to believe that _ that _” he points to Connor, “is your drug dealer.” Subsequently, Connor casually flips a middle finger, the ring on his finger catches the light in a contemptuous manner. He cocks an eyebrow challengingly. Jared narrows his eyes and returns the gesture. 

Quickly losing patience, Evan raises his voice, “Stop calling him that.” 

“You’re right, that’s offensive. Does he prefer to go by con man or lawless criminal?”

Connor loudly says, “Ev, ask him if he prefers to go by jackass or fuck-face? Those two names are non-negotiable.”

Completely bewildered, Jared sputters, “Did he just call you Ev? You have nicknames for each other?” Apparently, what Connor just said went completely over Jared’s head. Evan could almost see it graze his hair and sail over the school. He’s staring at Evan like a third eye just blinked open on Evan’s forehead. 

Evan fiddles with his backpack strings, “Well---” What is happening to this conversation?

Connor slides onto the hood of his car and leans back against the windshield, “_Ev, _tell the Clown-man it’s none of his fucking business.”

Jared clasps his hands together, “Evan, for the love of God, tell him to go away. I think I can feel my lungs shriveling as I speak.” He coughs as a breeze brushes by, carrying some of Connor’s cigarette smoke towards them. 

Evan pinches the bridge of his nose and begs for patience, “Please, stop. I forgot what we were even talking about.”

“We were discussing the outrageous claim, boarding on insanity, that you made about you and Mesothelioma being friends.”

Irritated, Evan says, “It’s true,” He takes a step towards Jared, a bit of anger coloring his words bright red, “His name is Connor and he’s not a freak or a drug dealer. He’s my friend and it’s not outrageous or insane or anything else you want to call it. So, stop it.” 

Jared squints at Evan and frowns, “Fine." He looks away and then grudgingly asks, "Anything else you want to clear up today?” 

Evan takes a step back, scratches his head and quietly admits, “I need you to keep it a secret.”

“Excuse me, what in the fuck did I just hear? You want me to keep it _ secret? _”

“Yeah…”

“Why?” Jared’s eyes widen in shock, “Holy shit,” he grabs Evan by the shoulders, “It’s all clear to me now. Connor is not your drug dealer.” He lowers his voice, “He’s your secret boyfriend. Now, I understand.” He sends a Cheshire cat grin in Connor’s direction, “Not to worry, I’ll keep your secret gay love---” Without thinking, Evan silences him with his hand. 

“We’re _ not that. _ Definitely _ not that.” _

Jared grimaces and pulls Evan’s hand away, he tells Evan in a chiding voice, “There’s nothing wrong with the love one man shares for another…”

Evan blushes and hopes to everything holy that Connor didn't catch that exchange. He shrills, “Connor is just my friend! How many times do I need to say we’re friends?! We’re friends, got that!? And--and I need you to keep it a secret.”

Jared laughs and shakes his head, “Oh, I missed riling you up. Is that why you were all like ‘that wasn’t funny Jared’ when really that thing that I said about his haircut was?”

A thought occurs to Evan, “Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?”

“Again, haven’t been ignoring you,” Jared pushes his glasses up, some of his usual composure coming back again, “But yeah, I was a little upset after that. And to be honest, I’m also upset you thought you could successfully keep a secret from me. You’re terrible at lying my dude. I was totally able to suss out something was up.”

Evan sighs, “Okay, I’m bad at lying. So, are you going to keep the secret for us?”

“What I don’t understand is why it has to be secret? Is this some sort of weird kink? I bet it was your idea, you kinky bastard.”

“It’s not a kink thing! And---” Evan knows the next thing he’s going to say is going to sound incriminating, “Honestly, I don’t know.”

Jared crows, “You’re totally lying right now! It’s _ absolutely _a kink thing!”

“I’m not lying!! I swear I really don’t know!”

Jared slowly shakes his head, “This is incredible.” Mirth sparkles in his eyes, “I’m going to tell everyone I know. Especially your mom." He splays his hands out, "_Everyone_, dude.”

Evan gasps, “You wouldn’t!” Jared may be pulling his leg but Evan can never be sure. If it's something that would bring Jared a lot of amusement, Evan knows that his friend would be willing to do anything to crack a good laugh. Even if it's at the expense of others. 

Jared cackles, “Of course not," Evan's shoulders fall in relief. Jared waves a hand around, "No one would even care. It’d be like that time my uncle announced he was getting married...You know, the one who has had four wives?”

“This is important to me, Jared. Please, promise me you won’t.” 

“Fine.” Jared glances at Connor and then looks at Evan like he's looking at someone new. “As long as you’re happy.” 

Evan just smiles and turns to look at Connor. Connor turns his head from looking up at the sky, he returns the grin Evan sends him. It falls when he looks at Jared, but not in a bad way. It's more curious if anything. Maybe even with a hint of thanks. 

Jared suddenly says, “You know that promise means nothing if we don’t do---” he raises a pinky and wiggles it.

Evan accepts it with his own pinky. 

“It’s a promise.”

********

Early during the fourth week of Senior year, Evan wakes up before the sun rises with a bad, bad feeling in each thump of his heart. There’s something bad creeping under his skin, it buzzes like a dormant wasps nest.

He stays under his blanket for as long as he can, letting the warm air cycle through his lungs and soothe him. No alien air for him, just the air that he builds up in his bed. It’s the air from sleep; therefore, it’s good and safe air. 

He would try and stay home but he knows that the anxiety of what he might miss at school would overcome any comfort he’d find at home. 

He needs to go.

He needs to go but he needs space. He can't talk to Connor. He just _can't. _

Evan knows that it's one of those days where all his words are frozen under the surface of his speech. Someone might talk to him and he'll think the words in his head but won't want to actually say them in their entirety. Hell, he can even see exactly what he'd say in his mind's eye, like a script for him to read off of, but his brain will tell him it's too many words and it's nicer to stay quiet. 

Not saying much is just like staying under the blanket. It's safe and warm and quiet because he doesn't have to bring himself to be a person and interact with anybody. 

It's very rare when he gets like this. But he knows it's better to just wait it out. Eventually it'll pass. It might take a couple hours or the whole day. But it'll pass. 

Evan rolls in his bed and pulls out his phone. He texts Connor: I need a bonsai today. 

A couple minutes later he gets: **Got it.**

The day turned out to be pretty lonely for Evan. The lunch period felt way too long and his loneliness was put much more in the highlight than usual. In so brief a moment of time, he had grown accustomed to meeting Connor for lunch in his little car that he'd forgotten what it was like to be alone. He'd been so caught up with swapping food, listening to music and talking with his friend that he'd forgotten that it wasn't _always _like that. 

Now, it’s either sit at the table with the purple haired girl he vowed to never sit next to again or go to the bathroom and have his lunch there. Neither of those choices seem too appealing. 

If he could, he would occupy the edges of the world. Slip unnoticed into a little corner, curl up into a ball and sleep for a long long time. Of course that's impossible.

He’ll take his chances with the bathroom. 

Mercifully, the day ends fast and Evan heads to swap out his things from his locker. When he opens it, a paper note flutters out like a white moth and he catches it before it falls to his feet. 

It’s a paper folded up into a neat little square. It’s blank on both sides, but Evan can see the faint traces of what looks like writing from the inside. He unfolds it. 

Inside the paper is a drawing of a bonsai tree. Evan can tell it’s a bonsai--mainly because it's potted---and also because of its snakelike trunk. The branches that stem off it appear like little arms that balance platters of clouds. The strokes of the pencil are long and dark. They look like they were built one after the other, building upwards and upwards until unfurling almost naturally. Incredulous, Evan quietly laughs at the paper in his hands and looks around for Connor in vain. He catches no sight of the tall boy anywhere. 

At the very corner of the paper, written small and lightly in pencil:

**Evan,**

**Drew a bonsai, felt right to put a haiku with it. I can't write them for shit, so I looked some up and found this one. **

_"The light of a candle_

_ is transferred to another _

_ candle---_

_ spring twilight."_

_-Yosa Buson_

**Mr. S took my phone right after I copied this down. **

**Anyways, R.I.P. to my history notes. **

**-Connor**

When Evan gets home he folds the letter back up and near-reverently puts it in the shoebox he keeps his red fortune slip in. He places the lid over the box and stows it away under his bed. 

Before Evan does his homework, he grabs a paper and pen and drafts a letter to Connor. He doesn’t really want to write about his day because that was rather boring and depressing. Of course he can’t write that he missed Connor. That’d be too much. 

Instead, he writes about what he wishes they could do.

_ Dear Connor Murphy, _

_ I don’t know what to write. I can’t really draw either. Unless, that is, you would like me to sketch out some of my favorite leaves (which is something I can totally do for you) but I doubt you would want that. _

_ Anyways. _

_ I’ll tell you about what I would like to be doing right now: _

  * _I’d like to not have homework_
  * _I’d like to not have college applications/ scholarship essays to do (cross out)_

_ Ok this is getting kind of boring _

  * _I’d like to see the rain right now_
  * _I’d like to hear it and daydream while laying on my bed in the dark_
  * _I’d like to be on a hike right now. High on a mountain top and overlooking a valley._
  * _I’d like to climb a tree again without thinking of falling_
  * _I’d like to pet a dog (i get nervous. I don’t think I’ve ever done it)_
  * _I wish it were summer again. We should go back to the apple orchard sometime?_

_ Sincerely, _

_Evan Hansen_

The following day, Evan finds Connor’s locker. He finds it and instantly gets nervous about putting his note inside it while everyone is in the hall. There’s so many people. They’ll see him put a note inside _ Connor Murphy’s locker. _ That is insane. Evan is insane. What is he thinking? Do people even put letters in people's lockers? Have they ever actually done that? Don’t people who have crushes on someone do that like in the movies? Will people think he has a crush on Connor? Because he doesn’t. He soooo doesn’t. He doesn’t have any feelings besides friendship for Connor. Of course, there would be nothing wrong with having a crush on Connor because he’s really nice, smart, talented, artistic, and really good looking...But, that’s besides the point because he _ doesn’t have a crush on Connor Murphy. _

He has a crush on Zoe Murphy, right? Right.

Except he hasn’t really thought of her since the start of summer vacation….When he started hanging out with Connor…

Evan shoves those thoughts away and turns in a quick circle, thinking fast. The school bell for the end of break is about to end and people are already starting to trickle to their classes. He has, at best two minutes. If he’s going to put the letter in Connor’s locker he has to do it now. Right now. 

He inches towards Connor’s locker, staring at the numbers… 09-25

This is so weird. Evan didn’t draw Connor something super cool like he did for Evan. For Christ’s sake, Evan made a bullet point list of things he’d like to do when Connor quoted a cool friggen' haiku!

His letter is totally lame! Evan is so embarassing! Connor would probably throw away Evan’s letter and never talk to him again because he’s so boring. 

But is Connor expecting for Evan to give him something in return? Would he be upset if he didn’t get a letter back? Evan winces down at the paper, he has been folding it over and over again, nearly tearing it, and he hasn’t even noticed till now. 

A minute left a minute left a minute left.

He really has got to go!!

Evan finally smooths his letter back into something that would fit the locker’s hole. He stares at his letter, inching it closer to the locker. And then he runs away to his class, vowing to put it in there during their next break. 

He doesn’t do it during their next break. 

He fantasizes very deeply about doing it during English while Connor isn’t looking. He thinks very hard about passing by Connor’s desk where he has his head bent on his arms and just very slyly slipping it in between his crossed arms. Maybe slipping it into Connor’s opened messenger bag on the floor? Is that a thing he could do? Connor sits way in the back of the class. Maybe Evan could “Accidentally” drop his pencil. Maybe it would roll so far back that he’d have to go back to where Connor sit and while he’s getting his pencil slip him his letter. 

No. No none of that will work. 

An idea pops into his head. He hasn’t been paying any attention to his teacher's lecture this whole time, so he shoots his arm up. His teacher, Mr. Jackson looks surprised to see him do so. In an almost wondering voice he calls on Evan and expectantly looks at him.

Evan blurts, “Bathroom?”

Mr. Jackson’s face falls in dissapointment and he waves dismissively at the door. Evan runs out of there, refusing to turn around and look at Connor. He runs over to Connor’s locker and stuffs his letter in there without preamble. 

He ducks back into class, feeling apprehensive and a little bit of excitement. 

And then, somehow, it became a thing. 

********

Evan and Connor would write each other letters whenever they felt like it. Which was, surprisingly, far more often than Evan expected. 

Sometimes Connor will just write Evan a quote or two that he liked from whatever he was reading at the time. Often times those quotes will be accompanied by doodles that represent what he copied and sometimes the drawings don't correlate at all. In fact, sometimes there’s no quote at all. Just a drawing of whatever he felt like drawing that day to give to Evan. It could’ve been a swing set, or an alien abduction, or a caricature of one of their teachers. Really, anything. Connor can draw anything. 

Evan did his best to give Connor letters as well. He found it easier to write lists of whatever he thought he wanted to talk about. He’d put down a list of things he’d want to do, a list of interesting facts he finds online, a list of the things he notices around him at the moment he writes it. 

It was fun exchanging letters because Evan's shoebox would look a little fuller with each letter he'd stow away. 

********

**Dear Evan Hansen, **

**I think you might like Robert Frost.**

**“The woods are lovely, dark and deep, **

**But I have promises to keep**

**And miles to go before i sleep,**

**And miles to go before I sleep.”**

**You’ve probably already heard of this one, but maybe you haven’t read the whole thing. I won’t write the whole thing out. But I’ll give you my copy of a book of his poems when I come by tomorrow. **

**Sincerely,**

**Connor**

**

_Dear Connor Murphy, _

_Did you know there are rainbow eucalyptus trees?_

_ They are in Hawaii. Absolutely beautiful and colorful. I had never heard of them till now. The trunk periodically sheds and the fresh strips of bark that show up are bright green. As the bark ages, they turn into different colors like blue, orange, and purple. _

_Can you imagine? I ended up looking at a ton of pictures of them and they all didn’t look real. _

_By the way, I finished reading the book of poems, are you sure you don’t want it back? I liked it a lot. You were right. I think what made it better was finding your notes in the margins. I noticed that you circled certain words and highlighted different sentences but there wouldn't be explanation as to why. I assume it’s because you liked it but I’ll ask you about it tomorrow. _

_Thank you,_

_ Evan H. _

_P.S. The drawing you made in your last letter was incredible. I don’t know how you do it._

**

**Dear Evan,**

**Those rainbow trees sound like they were made specifically for the gays. I’ve never been much of a tree hugger but I’ll go visit them one day and give one a hug. **

**I like Wallace Stevens, let me know if you do too. I’ll lend you my copy of his books. **

**“The summer night is like a perfection of thought**

**The house was quiet because it had to be”**

**-The House Was Quiet and The World Was Calm**

**XII**

**“The river is moving. **

**The blackbird must be flying.”**

**-Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird**

**Let me know. **

**C **

_ **_

_ Connor, _

_ I was going to ask you in person but maybe I’ll ask you here. If you don’t want to answer we can pretend I never asked. Are you gay? If you are, it’s totally okay. _

_ I was actually going to tell you in person at some point but I guess I'll do it here. I’m bi. _

_Anyways, if you are gay, maybe we can go visit those trees together? Of course if you aren’t, we can still visit them. The trees aren’t straight-phobic. _

_ Thank you for sharing those poems with me too. My favorite part of them is, of course, your drawings. _

_ -Evan _

_ **_

**Evan,**

**Yes, I’m gay. **

**Check out this poem:**

**Tender Buttons- Gertrude Stein**

**It’s weird but i like it. **

_ **_

_ September _

_ Dear Connor Murphy, _

_ You’ve seen my room before. But you haven’t seen it as a list. Maybe this is boring, I’m sorry if it is. It’s just, my lamp is giving me a funny look. _

  * _My lamp is octagonal. I don’t think I’ve seen one with eight sides. Usually it’s four I think, like a box. But this has eight angles. Eight like an octopus. It’s weird. I just noticed that. It giving me a funny look because i keep thinking of octopuses. I don’t particularly like them. Actually, I don’t really like anything in the ocean. I like the beach. I don’t really like the ocean. _
  * _Enough of the stupid lamp. _
  * _My comforter is maroon but not really. It’s not like a strong red, nor is it pale. It’s sun bleached. I think it’s like that cause it’s old. It’s like gum you see on the side-walk. I know I’m not describing my bed too nicely but it’s the best place in the world. _
  * _I have stars on my ceiling. You’ve seen them. We’ve made constellation names for them. I think my favorite is the Keanu Reeves one. Even though it looks nothing like him, it has his energy, right?_
  * _I have a couple of your drawings on my wall. My mom has asked about them. She says you’re very good at drawing. I like them a lot._
  * _I have your gray sweater here. I’d bring it to you at school but you told me to wait till you come by again. I really don’t mind giving it to you during lunch but whatever. (I really don’t mind. It’s sounds like I do but I don’t.)_

_ Next time you come over tell me what you think of the octopus lamp. _

_Since I've never seen your room can you maybe describe to me what it's like? It's ok if you don't want to. It was just a silly thought. _

_Sincerely,_

_Me_

**

**Dear Evan Hansen,**

**The lamp is not a lamp. Stop bullying it. **

**Also, sure.**

  * **I have a lamp too except it's round. You should get a round one too, mine doesn't remind me of anything except for maybe an eye. It's one of those lamps you can wiggle around because of its stem or whatever. I use it for reading in bed and for drawing. It's nice to be able to move it around. (Damn it Evan now I can't stop thinking it looks like an eye.)******
  * **My comforter is a deep navy. It's old as well but still retains its color. The color is peaceful I think. **
  * **I don't have my drawings on my walls. I keep them in one of those accordion-like folders with many pockets. I've had it since middle school. It's bulging with papers and there are stickers on the front of it. There are so many layers of stickers on the front of this thing, you could date it by looking at each individual strata of stickers. **
  * **I don't have a fucking door --- no, I will not elaborate. **
  * **My sweater is on the floor. I don't know why I felt the need to mention that but I did. **

**Yep, that's my room. Hope you enjoyed the tour. **

**Sincerely, **

**Me**

_ **_

_ Connor Murphy, _

_ I’ll fight you. _

_ I can’t believe you wrote “Ceci n’est pas une lampe” on my lamp. The audacity. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Me _

_ **_

**Dear Evan Hansen,**

**Hostile much? It’s so early in the morning.**

**Sincerely, **

**Me**

_ **_

_ Connor, _

_ It’s 12. _

_ While I was asleep you graffitied my lamp. My octopus lamp. _

_ -me _

_ **_

**Evan,**

**I did. So?**

**-C**

_ **_

_ C, _

_ Every time I turn on the thing the words will shine on my wall reminding me that it’s not a lamp. _

_E_

_** _

**E,**

**That’s kind of the idea.**

**-C**

_ **_

_ C, _

_ Whatever. I like the drawing you made. A lamp octopus is actually a cool idea. It’s like a jelly fish but smarter. _

_ E _

_ **_

**E** ****

**Thanks. This is the last post it note. **

**I want the record to show that on this day, a blessed Saturday at 12:06 p.m. September 19. Evan Hansen gave Connor Murphy a dirty look.**

***on the back of the post-it note***

_ I did NOT _ **. He did. It was scary. Connor was very frightened. ** _ Connor’s face is scary. Evan is terrified each time he looks at it. _ **Let’s name the octopus lamp Jeffery. ** _ I like the name jerold but ok _

_ **_

**Evan,** ****

**Don’t take this weird but Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers” reminds me of you. (the one with the blue background not the yellow).**

**-C**

_ *** _

_ Connor, _

_Wow, thanks. I think that’s actually the nicest thing anyone has ever told me. _

_I couldn’t choose one so I made a small list. I don’t think I’ve ever looked at as much art as I did while looking for these. _

  * _NightHawks - Edward Hopper_
  * The Art of Conversation - Rene Magritte
  * La Victoire - Magritte

_-_ _Evan_

_ **_

**Evan,**

**Did you pick those two Magritte paintings because of Jeffery? **

**Thank you, by the way...**

**-Connor**

_ **_ _  
  
_

_ Connor, _

_ Fuck! No, I didn’t even notice! _

_-E_

_ **_

_November _

_ Dear Connor Murphy, _

_ Are we still going to write these? It’s been a month and I guess we kind of forgot about our letters because of the stress of college apps. _

_ It’s easier to tell you this here, which is why I’m writing this in the first place---I’m nervous. _

_ You’re probably thinking: Evan, nervous? like that’s new. But, I am. _

_ You know how much work I’m putting into these scholarships so that I can afford to go to college. I spend so much time working on these essays that are supposed to convince people to give me money and sometimes I think they’re actually good but then I think...Why would they give me anything in the first place? Would it be because I like science? I have a single-parent mom? I’m depressed and have anxiety? What can I offer besides my shaky hands and inability to give presentations? God, that sounds so whiny. _

_ It’s hard. And it’s scary. I’m sure you’re really going through it too, even if you won’t tell me what’s been weighing on your mind recently. Because, I can tell there’s something. _

_ I’m a little worried, to be honest. I don’t think I’ve seen you draw anything recently. _

_ I don’t know why I decided to write this, maybe I’ll tear it up instead of give it to you. _

_Sincerely, _

_ Evan Hansen_

_ **_

_ December _

Evan,

Goodbye. 

********

**5 years after Connor Vanished.**

Now that Evan’s outside their door, he thinks that this may have been a bad idea after all. He repeatedly runs his hands through his hair and picks at his nails. 

He begins his pacing outside their apartment door. The light above him flickers in and out. It’s very quiet in the hall as most everyone is asleep. He can faintly hear the sound of TV somewhere but he’s not sure where it’s coming from. There’s also the sound of cars as they pass by, the sound of the city never goes to sleep.

He must spend ten minutes out in the hall, debating the merits of going inside or sleeping in a motel---because he can’t possibly return to Zoe’s place after that fuss he kicked up about returning home. Evan is leaning more towards sleeping in his car when his door suddenly opens. 

Jared stands there, with a carefully neutral expression. He looks Evan up and down, “You look like shit.”

He blurts out, “I’m sorry.” The words leap out of his mouth and land on the floor between them. Evan breathlessly waits to see if Jared picks them up. 

Jared furrows his brows at him as he pushes his glasses up. He wordlessly steps back inside their apartment and leaves the door open although Evan does not step inside. Jared uneasily settles on the couch and then notices where Evan is, he says, “Are you a vampire? Do you need a formal invitation inside?”

Evan huffs a small smile and feels his shoulders relax a little. _ This is normal. I was worried about nothing. Everything is ok. _He quietly settles beside Jared and realizes, in the blue light of the TV, that those TV noises were actually coming from in here. 

They settle in silence but it’s not exactly pleasant. Evan can almost see all the washed up debris from their fight strewn all over the room. There’s a palpable distance between them. It’s cold and it’s desolate like no man’s land. Evan grabs the blanket tossed over the back of the couch and covers himself with it. He hides his nose and mouth under the top of the blanket and breathes in the warm air. 

There’s some sitcom on the TV but Evan barely pays attention to it. Instead, he muddles into thoughts about when he should bring up the topic of Europe again. 

But it turns out he doesn’t have to do it at all because Jared, unprompted, says, “I’ve been thinking about what we---” He pauses, “Talked about” both of them know they weren’t simply talking but both of them choose to ignore it. He continues, “And I think we should go?”

Evan sits up and stares at him, “What?”

Jared looks away and waves his hand around, “I mean, if you even want to go? I know you don’t like planes so it probably wouldn’t even work. Also, it was a stupid idea in the first place so there’s that…” Jared trails away. 

Evan stares at him and stares at him, he can't believe it. Before Jared can change his mind, Evan quickly says, “I really want us to go."

Jared looks at him and raises his eyebrows, “You do?”

Evan nods, a smile full of joy blooming on his face, “Of course.”

A smile tugs at Jared’s face and he scratches behind his ear, “Okay.” 

In a swell of emotion Evan scoots toward Jared and hugs him, “Thank you.” 

There’s a brief handful of seconds where it’s just Evan hugging Jared. He wonders if it was too soon to do this but then he feels Jared sigh. His hand hovers over Evans’s back before lightly resting on his shoulder-blade---accepting the hug. The distance is gone. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the second half of this update. I'll post all the poems and songs I referenced in this fic in a list at the end of this story. tbh I don't know when I'll next update. I'll shoot for my regular thing and try and have something by the end of February (fingers crossed) but I also have a couple of one shots I want to write so I'm def gonna write those first before the next chapter. Real talk: sometimes I get scared that I'll disappoint you all with this. I don't know what I'm doing tbh, all I know is that I'm doing my best. Even if I don't know what I'm doing, I know how I want to end this story so that's good. We're like 40ish percent of the way thru, there's still some content left before I'm ending this.  
Ok, enough of that. Thanks for reading!! I really appreciate all the comments I've gotten--you have no idea how much they spur me on to keep doing this. ILY


	9. Missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jfc I am so sorry for this late late update. Not only is this shorter than usual but it's taken me a month to update. Because of this, I decided to split the entire chapter in half and upload the part that's been edited for now. I should have the next half ready in a couple days or by next week---certainly not a month from now.

**3 days after Connor vanished. **

Evan finds the article the day before winter break ends. 

He reads it in broken pieces, like the words in his hands have shattered to floor and if he picks them up they’ll slice his fingers open. 

_ Connor _

_ Last seen _

_ seventeen _

_ Heterochromatic _

_ Missing _

_ Blue _

_ Murphy _

_ brown _

_ Missing _

_ Missing _

_ Missing _

_ Missing _

Evan wants to scream. 

His phone slips out of his hands. He doesn’t even hear it hit the floor because a high-pitched ringing noise shrills in his head, needling its way to the very core of him. 

Connnor’s disappearance was reported yesterday. The last time Evan saw him was four days ago. 

_ What happened? _

There hasn’t been any new news. That must mean they haven’t found him yet. 

_ Where is he? _

_ Is he O.K.? _

Evan kneels on the ground and stuffs his head in his arms, turning himself into a small, small, ball. 

_ Where did he go? _

******

He texts Connor. He calls him. He must try and contact him over a hundred times and no response. His messages remain the same. 

_ Are you okay? Where are you? _

_ Call me. _

_ Please. _

******

**Seconds, minutes, hours, days, months after Connor vanished (time races by, fast and blurry as sand falling through fingers).**

School is hard and it’s much harder without Connor.

Evan feels as if he’s been set adrift; like an astronaut floating in space with a severed tether. Emptiness spans all around: cold, dark, and bleak. There’s no sense believing he’ll ever stop drifting away. 

There are people all around him and it doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. 

All his life, he had always wanted to be a part of something. He had wanted to share a piece of the sun with everyone else who lived their lives with such ease. He wanted to be easy and he wanted to be free. With a hand on the window that separated his life from theirs; he had whispered  _ can anybody see me? Will anybody see me? _

Connor saw him. Connor found him.

And now, Evan can’t find Connor.

Evan is in the cafeteria and it’s  _ so loud  _ and there’s so many people and Evan doesn’t want to see them anymore. He wants to close the blind on all of them. 

Evan snaps out of his thoughts when a hand waves in front of his face. Jared peers at him from across the lunch table, as if checking to make sure Evan is still breathing. Jared offers Evan half of his turkey sandwich, “Want some?” Evan blinks blankly at him and then looks back down at his hands and the empty trail mix bag resting next to his elbow. He’s been picking at the same bag of trail mix for the past week, scooping handfuls of it during lunch and not eating much else---now, he’s finished it and the sharp taste of salt lingers in his mouth dryly. He’s not hungry. He hasn’t been hungry. Evan shakes his head and rests it on his arms. 

“More for me,” Jared gives him a crooked grin but Evan can see there’s worry in his eyes. Jared taps a finger against his chin in thought, “Now, what was I saying?” He pauses a beat, waiting to see if Evan will respond. When he doesn’t, Jared says, “Ah, that’s right, the pill from  _ Japan. _ You’ll never believe this but I was on Reddit and---”

During these days, Evan oftenly finds Jared sitting beside him at the school’s lunch tables and chattering about something or other. He’ll talk even if Evan doesn’t say anything or make any indication that he’s listening. 

It doesn’t seem to bother Jared though, because he keeps coming back to Evan and has even invited him over to his house on several different occasions. Some part of Evan that isn’t drifting along with a river of space debri feels grateful for the efforts Jared is making to be there for him. Evan never asked for his bespeckled friend to suddenly start talking to Evan like the kind of best friends they never were, and part of him resents him for this sudden change of face. 

Where was this Jared before? Why didn’t he show up before? Why did Evan have to wait until his life fell apart for him to change? 

And on top of all that: how can he pretend like everything is ok? Does he think he can replace the hole Connor left? Because he can’t and he never will. Evan immediately feels bad about thinking that way but a deeper part of him whispers that it’s true. 

One day flows into another, Evan is tired and he’s aching everywhere in his heart. He’s still an astronaut and his space suit is running clear out of oxygen. His head throbs like an echo chamber where people shout nothing but abuse into it. 

He has more therapy appointments than usual, Heidi leaves actual letters and sends him texts messages reminding him to eat, he forgets the date of the day, and it gets harder to fall asleep and wake up again. 

The hours flow past on a river he can almost feel zipping by him. The river is unraveling him like a loose thread, he’s getting pulled fast, getting tugged and unraveled by the currents. 

The seconds drop around him like rain drops until suddenly they don’t. Breaking the pattern of what Evan has reluctantly accepted to be his routine, Zoe Murphy takes the seat that Jared usually sits in. Her new short haircut curls around her face and brushes her neck very slightly, she has bags under her eyes and a resolute set to her mouth as she pushes a plate of food in front of him. Evan lifts his head from his arms and can’t bring himself to say anything but he feels his eyebrows raise very slightly by themselves. 

She sighs and curtly says, “Eat.”

Evan gently moves the plate of food back towards her. 

She pushes it back. 

He shakes his head vigorously.  _ No. _

She sighs again in exasperation as if he’s being an insolent child. She plucks her apple from her tray and puts it in front of him, “Just this then.”

Evan eyes it. It’s green and plush with the promises of flavor and the electric taste of sourness. He thinks about how badly it will likely settle in his stomach that has had nothing but energy bars and trail mix for the past---whatever amount of time---and how it will likely be too much for him right now. But, given the testy look Zoe is giving him right now he will have to at least try to take a couple bites. Evan grabs it and takes a small bite of it and tries not to cringe at the strong flavor; he chews on it for what feels like a very long time and then he forces himself to swallow. 

Zoe gives him a small pleased smile. 

He’s more than grateful when Jared siddles into the seat next to him. Jared looks at Evan and then the apple, and then at Zoe, and then at Evan again. He blessedly doesn’t say anything about it and instead opts for saying, “Did you guys know that the T-Rex in Jurassic Park was a wholeass true-to-life-size animatronic that nearly killed a guy?” He doesn’t wait for either of them to respond before launching into a single-sided discussion of movie trivia.

It continues on like this. Some would say that life moves on. Life continues on. But, really it doesn’t. It’s all like one very long dream, the newest thing is that Zoe sometimes sits with him and Jared. She’s just as quiet as Evan, so they both make pretty good audiences for Jared. 

One day (minutes, hours, days after Connor’s disappearance), Zoe comes up to Evan in the hall. It’s almost a surreal experience because he’s so used to seeing her at their lunch table and _ only  _ at their lunch table. But she comes up to him with her hands tucked into her backpack straps and says, “My parents asked if you wanted to come over for dinner.”

Evan hasn’t been speaking much so it’s a little strange to hear his own voice again as he croaks, “Um, why?” He can’t think of any reason the Murphy’s would know about him unless Zoe mentioned him for some reason. He suddenly gets the idea that maybe Connor’s parents found Evan’s letters and the mere thought of it sucks all the air out of his lungs. 

Zoe’s raises her hands as if to steady him, “Are you ok? You look pale.”

Evan nods, trying to casually press a hand to his racing heart but there is really no way to do such a thing casually. He asks her again why they want to invite him over.

Zoe sheepishly scratches her cheek, “I may have mentioned you to them the other day.” The words rush out of her mouth kind of reminding Evan of himself when he’s nervous, she says, “I didn’t mean to, but they were arguing and my dad said some fucked up shit about Connor and then I defended him and then somehow that led to you.”

So, they didn’t find their letters. Evan’s shoulders fall from where they were crawling up to his ears and he sighs in relief. And because he’s so relieved he finds himself saying, “Okay.”

Zoe perks up, “You can come?”

Evan wants to back out of it, he really truly does but he just nods and lets Zoe give him her number so that she can text him her address. 

Some part of his heart that’s rotten flakes and falls to the floor: he had hoped that Connor would’ve been the one to give him his home address one day. 

******

The Murphy house is everything and nothing like Evan expected. 

The house practically has a sign above its front door that says: Upper Class Home---peasants will be fined for each breath taken within a 10ft radius of this property. Evan is very tempted to ask Zoe to turn her car around and take him back home. 

Truth be told, Evan was never quite able to pin down an exact image of where Connor would’ve lived. Each time he tried imagining Connor in his home’s living room or in his own bedroom Evan would instead see Connor in  _ his  _ bedroom or in  _ his  _ living room. 

When Zoe opens the door and he’s greeted with the sight of a fucking foyer, Evan really knows he needs to either jog back home or just die on the spot. 

Zoe steps in and quietly closes the door behind her. The door barely clicks closed before a lady with dark auburn hair steps out of seemingly nowhere and approaches the two of them with her hands clasped in front of her chest. She has a bright look in her eyes of a dehydrated person looking at a desert oasis. 

Evan immediately feels even more uncomfortable to have those eyes look at him so, “Welcome, you must be Evan _ , Connor’s friend.”  _ Her voice hitched ever so slightly when she said Connor’s name. She quietly says with great sincerity, “I’m Cynthia, I am so happy to finally meet you.” It delicately hangs in the air for a moment before Evan remembers himself and tries to discreetly dry his sweaty hand on his shirt before shaking Cynthia’s hand. 

Evan chews on the inside of his cheek he looks down and says, “Thank you for having me over. I---I um, I think you have a lovely home.” 

“Thank you, dear,” Cynthia smiles a small blank smile and says, “I’ll have dinner ready in a moment. Why don’t you two settle in.” She quietly walks away, an air of sadness to her movements.

Zoe shrugs off her jacket and steps out of her shoes. She sighs, “Don’t mind mom. She’s been all out of sorts since...you know.” Zoe guides Evan to the couch and pats a spot beside her, “Dad should be on his way,” Zoe cringes slightly, “Not really looking forward to that but at least there’s a chance he’ll miss dinner.” She mumbles something under her breath too low to hear. 

Not sure what to say to that, they fall into a silence tinged with a little bit of nervous energy that Evan is sure that Zoe is also contributing to--not just him. 

Soon enough he’s at the Murphy’s dining table. He notices that there are four seats. He supposes they set out the extra one in case Mr. Murphy should arrive, but he also wonders how long they’ve been sitting with a vacant seat when it’s just the three of them. He sits in the seat across from Cynthia because he thinks the one across from Zoe was (is) Connor’s. 

A minute barely passes through dinner before Cynthia asks, “So, Evan, how did you and Connor meet?”

Zoe groans, “Mom, couldn’t you have waited a bit to ask?”

“I don’t see any harm in asking,” Cynthia primly picks at her salad, moving the greens around in a circle. She lifts her eyes demurely and pins Evan with her open gaze, “You don’t mind, do you?”

Evan shakes his head, “Not at all,” he nervously chuckles even if he doesn’t really find the situation all that humorous. He tucks his hands under the table and wrings his fingers together “H-how did we meet? I—” it’s hard to make eye-contact so he fixes his gaze on his shoes lest he should get dizzy, “we met at the park. He—he helped me.”

“Is that so?” Cynthia sits up straighter in her seat, a glow of curiosity slowly seeping into her eyes, “How? If I may ask that is.”

“Of course, you can ask me anything!” Evan ducks his head and internally curses himself for sounding so eager, but thinking back to that day at the park feels like years ago. Even if he had been in incredible pain, that memory is still a happy one that he can look back on; however, there is an edge of pain and sadness to it now that he looks at the empty chair beside him. His thoughts unfurl him back to this moment when he feels the weight of expectant eyes waiting for him to answer. So he self-consciously says, “Well, he found me after I fell out of a tree.”

Cynthia gasps and Zoe looks at him in surprise, “Oh dear, were you ok?”

“Yeah, well, not at that moment because I broke my arm,” he giggles nervously again feeling a little hot under the collar to have attention be on him for so long. “I was climbing a tree in the park---I don’t even remember why,” the lie came so easily, he wonders if they can tell that he lied by the tremor in his voice. He’ll always remember why he climbed that tree. He keeps speaking, “I don’t know what happened that day. There must have been some crazy mix of good and bad luck happening for me because while I was in a lot of pain C-Connor came out of nowhere and found me. He offered help take me to the hospital and he waited for me while I got taken care of,” Evan smiles wistfully, and he can taste ice cream as he says, “He also got me ice cream afterwards.” Evan absentmindedly looks at his hands and lets himself get lost in the memory, “That’s how we became friends.”

“That’s incredible,” Cynthia murmurs. 

And it’s almost like Evan doesn’t hear her because words start unfurling out of his mouth without his permission, and he starts speaking more than he intended. Dinner forgotten, he tells them about how Connor would go over to Evan’s house for movie nights and Cynthia would nod along excitedly at the mention of all of Connor’s favorite movies. He tells them how Connor was constantly drawing, how he’d always play music in the car, how he liked poetry but never wrote any himself. Some of these things that he’d bring up seemed like surprises to Cynthia, and she would hungrily drink up all the unknown things like they were precious. Zoe also listened, but she kept her head down and cocked to the side, keeping an ear open to the things he said. 

He can’t stop talking. 

It doesn’t seem like they want him to stop, but even if they did, he doesn’t think that he’d be able to. Connor invades his thoughts and his heart is beating fast with each and every thing he shares about his friend. Everything that he wants to share bubbles around him like small birds chirping into his ears, each time he tells them something about Connor a little bird flutters out of his hands and flies out into the open: free. But, it also feels a lot like he’s saying goodbye to all these memories in a weird way. Like, once he’s shared all that he could he wouldn't be able to recall them ever again. 

Perhaps that’s why he shares the best memory of them all: that day in the apple orchard. 

Evan finds himself leaning against the table and gazing skyward with no memory of the way he told the story. He blinks back into the present and finds two pairs of watery eyes staring at him in complete silence. 

Aching to fill the silence and not sure how, Evan scratches his head and dumbly says, “Yeah, um, yeah.”

Cynthia finally moves and dabs gently at her eyes, “Thank you, Evan. That was a lovely story.”

Zoe chews on her lip, her hands clenched into fists atop the table. She gets up and says, “I’m going to my room.” Before Cynthia can say anything she turns on her heel and leaves. Cynthia frowns at Zoe’s vacant spot and takes a sip of water before saying, “I’m glad he found a friend like you. Truly, I’m grateful.”

Evan blushes at the sincerity in her voice, “Technically, he found  _ me. _ You know, what with the tree and all?” He awkwardly laughs and wonders if it would be rude to not finish his plate of food; however, he doesn’t think that would be the case since Zoe and Cynthia don’t seem to have made much of any progress eating as well. 

Cynthia smiles a small smile at him. She looks at him fondly and then quietly asks, “Pardon me for asking but…You two were just friends?”

It takes a moment for Evan to realize what she’s asking and he nearly topples out of his chair in surprise. His cheeks feel like they are on fire as he stammers, “Yes!  _ Just  _ friends. Nothing more.  _ Nothing _ ever happened.“ Evan’s brain is spinning so hard it can helicopter out of his head at any moment. In a final fit of sheer lunacy he says, “We weren’t anything.” Evan firmly snaps his mouth closed, firmly telling himself to shut up. _shut up shut up shut up __don't__ make this worse. _

Cynthia looks at him with something approaching pity and that is not ok—_at_ _all_. She says, “It’s alright, dear.” But he can tell she doesn’t quite believe him.

Some terribly awkward minutes pass before Cynthia encourages Evan to find Zoe in her room. As he trepidatiously heads to her room, he comes upon Connor’s room without needing anyone to confirm that it is so. One sign that alerted him to this fact is that it seems like the door had a haphazard look to its placement. It’s as if the door was hurriedly put there. Another thing is just that he just  _ knows.  _ It’s weird but he just  _ does.  _

“That’s his room.”

Evan jumps and sees that Zoe has stepped out of her room to lean against the wall beside him. She has her arms crossed in a guarded position but not in a way that speaks of distance; rather, she just looks sad. “Want to go inside?”

Evan glances at the door; a surge of anxiety courses through him at the thought of entering, “Is that ok?”

Zoe gives a half-shrug, “It’s not like he’s here to care,” she opens the door.

Evan sees Connor’s room for the first time. 

He doesn’t really care to admit it, but Evan had spent a fair amount of time using the information Connor had given him about his room to craft a mental image for himself of it. It’s exactly like how he described in his letter but there’s more empty space than Evan had expected. There’s the navy blue bed, his round lamp, and there are bare walls, but if Evan looks closely, there are little holes where posters or drawings must have once been. Evan wonders where that folder of his drawings is.

Evan stays put at the entrance of the bedroom unable to move while Zoe quietly sits on Connor’s bed. She leans heavily on her knees, an expression of great heaviness weighs on her features, “I need to tell you something.”

Disconcerted by the sight Evan nervously sits beside her, “What is it?”

They both jump because from downstairs Cyntia yells, “Zoe! Come down for a minute, I need your help.”

Zoe sighs and heaves herself up, “Stay here, I’ll be back.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to warn you all that the next part will delve into some heavy themes. I will tag them when I update of course but I just wanted to put that out there before I do so. 
> 
> Again, sorry for the late update. I'm like sad that it's taken me this long to update, but we are nearing the parts of the fic that I wrote this entire thing for so...that's exciting! I swear, things are going to get brighter in (perhaps) unexpected ways. 
> 
> Thanks to anyone who is still reading lol. No, but seriously, thank you. I love you all.


	10. i’m sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What happened?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter has dark themes and if you aren't comfortable with the tags that I put in the end notes then I suggest that you skip this chapter entirely. If I fail to tag something please let me know. 
> 
> (I got emotional at several points writing this chapter ngl)
> 
> Also, another warning for long end-note but it was necessary.

Evan silently sits in Connor’s room and his eyes fall on a big bulging folder partly hidden beneath Connor’s bed. He hesitates and listens to the soft voices coming from down the stairs; Evan pulls out the folder and finds there to be a ton of stickers littering its cover. 

The stickers are thick from being stacked on top of each other, and there are white edges to them from water-damage and/or nearly being scrapped off. Most of them are band stickers, but some of them are little circles and squares with quotes or curse words like _ FUCK _in big comic-like letters, and then there are some that just have neat geometric designs. Evan runs a hand over it and thinks that the folder almost feels warm, as if it’s obvious age and love has given it a bit of life. 

_ Connor’s drawing folder. _

Evan shakily opens it feeling the sort of guilt someone might feel about opening another’s diary.

There are papers. Many, many papers. Evan slides the papers out one-by-one and at random. He slides them just enough that he can look at them and then tuck them back in so it wouldn’t look like he was going through them---even if that extra precaution doesn’t matter, it eases a bit of the weirdness that comes with looking at Connor’s drawings without his permission. Along with that, if Evan put papers where they shouldn’t be it couldn’t possibly matter because Connor was right, there is no order to them. 

Some of the drawings look like they were drawn when Connor was just learning to draw because the lines are bold and shaky with smudges on the lines giving each figure in the drawing a ghost-like appearance. Some of them are a bit finer with experience, the lines are sharper and more sure with more complex subjects. 

Just as Evan spots something vaguely familiar, Zoe suddenly returns and closes the door behind her. She sighs and runs a hand through her hair; her hand snaps forward slightly as if she momentarily forgot the new length of her hair. Zoe’s tired eyes land on the folder on Evan’s lap. Evan quickly tries to close it and shove it under the bed but realizes that trying to hide what he was doing is basically futile so he hugs it to his chest and says, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have been looking through these,” he hangs his head in shame, “I’m sorry.”

Zoe raises a brow but she doesn’t look agitated, “I almost forget how much you apologize, and then it’s moments like these where I’m just like---yep, that’s just Evan,” a soft smile shows her words to be good-natured. 

“Oh, yeah…hmm,” Evan bites his tongue because he nearly apologized again.

Zoe tucks her hair behind her ears and joins him on Connor’s navy blue bed. She nods her head at the folder and says, “You can hang on to that if you want.” When Evan looks at her in surprise she lightly touches the folder, “Just---you know, give them back.”

Evan’s heart swells in gratitude and he promises to give them back as soon as possible and Zoe seems to appreciate it. 

But then, Zoe worries at her lip and a troubled cloud passes over her expression. Evan tenses, sensing that she’s about to return to that thing that she wanted to talk to him about. Zoe sighs and whispers, “Connor ran away because of our dad.”

Evan’s heart skips a beat but in a bad way. It’s like when there’s an extra step than expected when descending the stairs; that racing feeling when the ground isn’t as reliable as it was once thought to be. He turns himself so that he fully faces Zoe, “What?”

Zoe stares down at her hands and traces the lines on the palm of her right hand as if in a trance. 

“We had been at our cabin for winter break.” Evan nods because he remembers that Connor had vaguely mentioned going there before winter break began. “Connor got into a big fight with mom and dad but I had been asleep through most of it. So, I have no idea what it was actually about…” She slowly turns to face Evan and doesn’t meet his eyes, “Anyway, I woke up when I heard the door slam. I left my room and found everyone in the living room except for my brother.”

Zoe pauses and her throat visibly works for a second before she continues---her words fly out fast and restlessly like she’s been waiting a long time to say this, “Dad had been drinking, his face had been all red, exactly the way it goes when he’s angry and careless. Mom was crying and she couldn’t tell me what had happened because she was worried about Connor going out in the snow storm. She kept saying something could happen to him---I mean, she was right but my dad wouldn’t listen he kept saying what he always says: ‘_Connor is just looking for attention_.’ Mom got _ really _upset so she went outside to look for him herself even if I told her we could call and ask for help. I asked dad if he was going after them but he went into his room and shut me out.

“I waited for a long time but when neither of them came back I went looking for mom. I couldn’t find her but I did end up finding Connor. He was angry and he tried telling me to go away but he wasn’t wearing a warm enough jacket nor the right shoes so he was shivering like crazy. I swear, his face was going blue out there and I told him that he needed to come back otherwise he’d freeze to death. He laughed at me and said he didn’t mind waiting a bit longer to test that particular theory out. I was like are you crazy? Come back to the cabin. He got even angrier and before he could say anything that I knew he’d really regret I told him that mom was outside and looking for him.

“I’m not sure if that was what did it, or if he finally got too cold to just be standing out there in the middle of a snow storm like that but he finally agreed to come back with me. I tried to text mom and tell her that I found Connor but I forgot my phone in the house and so did he. We made it back to the cabin as fast as possible because it was _ fucking cold_. Evan, it was _ freezing _outside,” Zoe shivers at the memory and Evan does as well. His head is positively spinning with all this information and his heart hasn’t stopped racing since Zoe started her story. He almost doesn’t want to ask what happened next but he does: “And then?”

Zoe pulls her legs up onto the bed and hugs them to her chest, “When we got back to the cabin mom wasn’t there and we freaked out. Well, it was more like I freaked out but I could tell Connor was worried too. We didn’t want to bother dad so we called the police and they helped us find her. When we did find her she was hurt because she had gotten lost in the trail going after Connor and twisted her ankle. Long story short: dad was pissed---no, he was _ furious _ at Connor and he---he accused him of nearly killing mom.”

Zoe grips her legs tightly against her with a tight expression on her face. She lowly says, “Connor couldn’t say anything. He was beyond angry---he was livid, but I could tell that dad really hurt him. I tried to step in, I was angry at dad for blowing up but I was also angry at Connor for running away in the first place---I said some things, but they were all the wrong things. Dad told me to go to my room and I refused, and he started to get angry at me before Connor told him to fuck off and to leave me the fuck alone and then dad hit him.”

Evan reeled back to hear that. Everything that Zoe was telling him was flashing through his mind vividly and so clearly that he felt like he'd actually been hit at that moment. Heart lodged high in his throat Evan chokes out “He _ what?” _

Zoe bluntly says, “Dad hit Connor.”

“I know. I mean, I heard that and I was surprised. I mean I _ am _surprised and---” Evan shakes his head to clear the ringing in his ears, helplessly he asks, “Was that the first time?”

“No,” Is all Zoe says. 

Evan stammers, “Have you---has he---” Evan’s breaths are coming kind of fast, and he distantly wonders if he’s going to have a panic attack. 

Zoe hangs her head, “No, never me. Only Connor,” She cocks her head upwards as if hearing a noise from the door but then lowers it again when nobody tries to come in. She draws circles on her kneecaps and ruefully says, “Connor always stepped in for me.”

“I see,” a rush of air escapes him and Evan rests his head in his hands; he feels the edges of the folder dig into him in a pain that is better than the turmoil running rancid inside him. He nearly flinches when Zoe speaks up again, apparently not done with her story: “That night, dad hit him more than he’s ever hit him before. He may be a drunk bastard but he’s a smart drunk,” Evan wearily looks up to find a bitter and knowing smile stretching tightly across her mouth, “He always hit him where he knew no one could see.”

Evan unintentionally groans and presses his hands against his eyes. _ I can’t believe this. I can’t I can't I can’t _...

The bitter smile falls and Zoe looks unbearably vulnerable as she says, “I wanted to call the police again because I thought that maybe---maybe this time was time dad finally lost it and actually killed Connor but as soon as I thought that it was all done. Connor was on the floor for a long time. He didn't want me to touch him or help him. I offered him ice and anything else I could think of but he refused everything and then he somehow got up by himself and locked himself in his room. I was stuck. I was so close to dialing the police and stopping something like that from ever happening again but I didn't. I’ve always wanted to call but I never did. It's always been this way, and I think it's partly because Mom always defended dad. Well, not explicitly, but she always discouraged me from getting into it and calling the authorities, you know? Why am I asking you if you know? I don’t even know...God, I don’t know why she—-I don’t know why _ I—- _” Zoe tugs at her hair, panic and remorse flashes through her eyes for a terribly long second before she let’s go and deflates. Flat as a punctured tire she says, “I honestly don’t remember what happened after that. All I know is that I somehow fell asleep at some point and I’m sure you can guess it: the next morning Connor was gone. I have to admit that this wasn’t unusual. After a beating like that he’d always disappear for awhile. Mom still wasn’t feeling well and I was in shock, so it took us five days to realize that something was off about his disappearance.”

Zoe’s eyes start watering and she raises a shaky hand, “_Five days _, Evan. The longest he’s ever been gone is three. We waited until five days and I tried convincing dad to tell the authorities and file a missing person’s report but he refused. He kept saying that Connor’s always disappears and that he eventually always comes back. At first I believed him but then I grew worried and so did mom so I did it. I reported it.”

“They searched---as I’m well aware you know, but he’s gone.”

Evan feels tears running down his face to hear Zoe’s story. He is not prone to anger, but he is starting to find that he is rapidly becoming acquainted with it at that moment; however, it’s a useless feeling because there is nothing to be done. But, he kind of prefers this fire running through his veins over the deep sadness that the flames mask. He shakily asks, “How long has this been going on?”

Zoe wipes her eyes and sniffles hard, “It feels like forever but I can’t exactly say when it started.”

“Why isn’t your dad---”

“Behind bars? He’s the CEO of a major law firm, even if he killed Connor, no one could touch him. The most he could ever get is ten years tops. And then if he came back...I don't want to imagine what would happen to mom and I.”

He aches to hear that and puts as much feeling as he can when he says, “I’m sorry.” Those words don’t feel like enough. They probably aren’t. It’s not like those words are made of magic that can take them to the past and erase all the grief and horror that has happened. If they were, Evan would certainly do many things differently. Maybe he would’ve pushed to visit Connor’s house, maybe he would’ve asked about the bruises he would sometimes see---although, he had to admit he rarely saw them---regardless, he would ask about them, he would ask Connor why he was pulling away as fall began, why Connor wasn’t showing up at school, why he was so quiet, why?

Why?

If “I’m sorry” were magic words that could take him back, he’d yell them as loud as he could. So loud that all the hurts and pains would melt away. He’d howl, “I’M SORRY” and then he’d be back at the start, back under the tree with his broken arm and Evan would have a chance to be a better friend. A friend who didn’t just see things but he’d actually _ see and understand. _

How could he have been so blind?

“I’m sorry,” he says again, but for different reasons. 

Zoe squeezes his shoulder comfortingly and the feeling ground him ever so slightly. 

“I need you to keep this between us. You can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. I promise,” Evan chews on his lip, nearly drawing blood. He’s hugging Connor’s drawing folder so hard it hurts his ribs. 

Zoe gives him a look of concern, “You look very pale right now, are you ok?”

“I’m fine!” It’s at that moment that Evan realizes that he somehow teleported or something towards the door because he doesn’t remember consciously deciding to do that. He’s leaning rather heavily against it and he’s also finding it really hard to look at anything that isn’t Zoe right now, “I mean---I don’t know. I don’t know.” Evan’s head starts to throb very painfully and he feels as if he’s going to hurl at any second. 

“Let me get you water,” Zoe disappears and then she’s back with a glass of clear water that Evan gulps down immediately as it’s handed to him. The water rushes through his system, somehow simultaneously soothing him and also magnifying all the parts of him that have crumbled. She rubs his back as he nibbles on the cookie she brought for him and he deliriously thinks that the roles are horribly reversed at the moment. _ He _ should be the one comforting Zoe because of all the terrible shit she just told him about, but here she is being heart-breakingly kind and trying to make _ him _feel better---God, he’s such a terrible friend. 

Once he works up the nerves to ask her how she’s doing Zoe gets up, “I think I should take you home. If dad isn’t here now, that means he’s probably getting plastered at the bar. You don’t want to see him drunk,” Zoe helps him up and jerks her head towards the window and towards the dark street that awaits them, “Let’s go.”

She takes him home. It’s empty. He doesn’t know if he’s grateful to be alone at the moment or not. 

The untethered feeling is coming back again. He’s set adrift on a still and bottomless ocean. Except, a gentle quiet whirlpool tugs him into its arms, and his thoughts uncontrollably spin to the last time he saw Connor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: mentions of domestic abuse and alcoholism. In sum, (SPOILERS) Zoe tells Evan that Connor was abused by Larry. They were at their winter cabin and things escalated to the point that Connor ran away. 
> 
> Author's note: I worked on editing this for like five hours and felt really good after that. But, bad news for you all because those good feelings somehow translated into evilness *cough cough* another cliff hanger...I have to say though, I think I like these small updates over the course of several days rather than a whole 10,000 words or so update in one day. It eases a lot of stress and I actually had fun getting this ready for tonight. So, next part should actually be coming out maybe next week because I have a feeling I'm going to need to dedicate a lot of attention to it. 
> 
> \----
> 
> U.S. hotline for Domestic Violence: 1-800-799-7233. If you are unable to speak safely login onto the hotline.org or text LOVEIS to 22522
> 
> And here is a website for national/global domestic violence hotlines and more: https://www.domesticshelters.org/resources/national-global-organizations
> 
> Stay safe. You are not alone.


	11. The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan was actually the last person to see Connor before his disappearance. There are discoveries and things found right before they are lost, and there are other things that are found without necessarily getting lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, this scene was like one of the first scenes I had in my head when I thought up this fic. Never expected this scene to be 50,000 words deep in this fic lmao
> 
> Also, sorry for any typos or funky stuff, I don't think I was as careful by the time I reached the end.

**The night. **

Evan is alone, and it’s nearing midnight. Heidi is at work so she can’t tell him to get to bed, but even if she were here, he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

It’s one of those nights where his thoughts keep disturbing any chance for sleep to sweep him away. Literally any inconsequential thought or random itch could delay his ability to slip into sleep and it’s awful. After tossing and turning for an hour, Evan decided to rest on the couch and turn the TV onto something mindless.

He’s watching some cartoon when, from the corner of his eye, he sees his phone light up with a message. When he picks it up he notices there is a series of messages from Connor. 

**Connor: ** **R u awake?**

_ Evan: _ _ Yea _ _ why? _

**Connor: ** **Can I come over?**

That’s unusual. Actually, that's _ really _unusual for Connor to ask to come over so late. 

_ Evan: R _ _ u ok? _

**Connor: I’m ok. Just can’t sleep and I’m bored as fuck. **

Evan chuckles quietly and doesn’t see any harm in letting Connor come over so he says: _ Sure _

But then he remembers that Connor wasn’t supposed to be back home till the day before school starts. _ Wait. You’re back from the ski trip? _

**Connor: Back home early. I’m heading over to yours rn**

A new cartoon starts to play, it’s a rerun of an old show he used to watch when he was a child. The plot of the episode is just starting to emerge in his memory when he hears a knock on his door. 

“Hey,” Connor’s familiar figure stands at his front door step and Evan’s heart soars to see him. The porchlight buzzes in and out, casting dim light and shadow onto Connor’s indecipherable expression. Something is off about his friend. Nervous energy crackles off him and manifests itself in the unnaturally still set to his body. 

“Hey,” Evan knows he already asked him, but he needs to ask again: “Are you ok?” 

All at once, Connors seems to shed the nervous energy, or atleast place it aside as he moves and rubs his arms, “Yeah, just fucking cold out. Let me in?” The light buzzes brightly for a second and Connor has a tight expression before it eases into a familiar half-smile, “It’s good to see you, dude.”

Evan tries to quell the weird feelings he has and returns the sentiment. He steps back to let him in and Connor hurriedly steps inside with a quick glance over his shoulder. It’s not cold out, sure there’s a slight chill but it’s not cold. Evan wonders why Connor was so cold but then thinks that it must be because Evan has been inside all day. When Evan flicks the light on Connor flinches and flaps his hand, “That's a _really _bright light. Turn that off will you?" he bends over and starts unlacing his boots so Evan can’t get a good read on his face, "I forgot how bright it is in here."

Evan hesitates and then flicks it off. By the dim light of the TV, Evan can see Connor relax his shoulders and give a small sigh. He offers a hand to help Connor get up and Connor accepts it, coming to stand in front of Evan. Somehow Evan forgot how tall Connor actually is and he dumbly comments on this. Connor simply snorts and moves to the couch, also making a weird movement when he tries to stretch his arms over his head. 

“How was the trip?”

Connor shrugs with a brief scowl, "Shitty."

"I'm sorry..."

Connor shrugs again, "It's ok, it's not like I didn't expect it."

Evan doesn’t really know what to say. Really, he never does; but, usually, when he's with Connor, that sort of short-coming has never seemed to matter until now.

A couple minutes pass before Connor tentavelily asks Evan, “How’s your break been?”

“It’s been alright," Evan's knee starts to jump nervously, "A bit boring.”

“Hm,” Connor absentmindedly nods his head, “What are you watching?”

“Oh, just some show I used to watch as a kid,” Evan realizes that it must be kind of lame for him, a senior in high school, to be watching a show made for kids in the middle of the night--- “I mean, I wasn’t _ really _watching it. It was like background noise for my insomnia…” Evan fumbles for the remote control and offers it to Connor, “We can change it if you want?”

Connor doesn’t take the remote, “You know, I’ve seen the memes, but I have never seen an episode of _ Arthur _ before.”

Unsure, Evan asks, “So, I’ll leave it?” Connor nods and turns his attention to the screen. 

When it looks like Connor has relaxed a bit Evan gets up with a blanket and snacks in mind, “I’ll get the pop-tarts.”

Connor suddenly perks up, “Oh shit, do you have the s’mores ones?”

Evan indeed has the s’mores pop-tarts and he toasts them until they are hot little packets of chocolate-marshmallow heaven. He also grabs several blankets from the closet---Heidi likes to collect blankets because she's always told him that there could never be too many blankets in a house. Connor eagerly accepts all of these things and he hums very quietly as he bites into the hot and fresh pop-tart Evan handed him. 

The blankets piled on top of them make it impossible to tell where their legs are, so they constantly play footie beneath the covers. The room smells sweet with the warm smell of toasted graham cracker and sugar. It’s pleasantly cozy beneath all the blankets---it’s especially nice when Evan can look over and see his best friend sitting across from him. 

Gradually, whatever weird thing was blocking them from acting naturally around each other crumbles and then they just talk. Evan convinces himself that he was just imagining the weird energy radiating off of Connor and the weirdly careful way that he was moving. They talk about everything and nothing until Evan can hardly keep track of what they’re talking about. He tries to hold back a yawn and fails. He’s not even sure what time it is and he fights against his eyes that droop with heaviness. He startles very slightly when Connor rests his head against his shoulder. Sometime during the marathon of cartoons that they were half paying attention to, the two of them traveled from their opposite places on the couch, towards the middle, and towards each other. 

“Thanks for having me over,” Connor quietly says, and his hair tickles Evan’s neck very softly. His head is a very solid and warm feeling on his shoulder, honestly it's a bit of a strange sensation, but it's also kind of nice. He doesn't want to move, but he also doesn't want to be so still that Connor could mistake it for discomfort and move away. It’s all he can do to simply say, “Of course.”

Evan discovers he _ likes _ having Connor this close. He wonders what drew Connor to rest his head on his shoulder, but Evan imagines that that must mean that he’s very comfortable around him—-that’s a very nice thought. Evan tries to relax and he gently props his head on top of Connor’s, he does it lightly so that Connor can move away if he wants. 

There's a beat of silence, and then Connor says, “I need to tell you something.”

Evan was just starting to feel sleepy again so he bats his eyes open but doesn’t move from their close position, “What is it?” 

Connor doesn’t say anything for a long while before he’s the one that moves away enough to look Evan in the face. The light of the TV catches Connor’s eyes, turning one of them electric blue. Their eyes hold but Connor’s expression does not give Evan any clue as to what the weighty look of them is for. Evan waits and is totally unprepared for the moment when Connor leans in and kisses him.

Evan breathes in sharply and forgets what he’s supposed to do with that air in the first place. Why did he breathe in? He doesn’t remember until Connor pulls away with an apology on his guilty face, but Connor never finishes his “I’m sor---” before Evan leans back in, heedless to his own racing thoughts that are screaming _what are you doing?!? _and chasing the moment that was broken too soon. 

It’s like a dam that Evan wasn’t even aware of just burst open. Evan’s never kissed anyone in his life (unless you count that unfortunate incident of Jared and the Halloween candy debacle of ‘09), but he’s never actually kissed anyone _for real_ and he never imagined he’d like it as much as he does now. He’s not sure what he’s doing, so he just follows Connor along and tentatively rests his hands on Connor's back and dazedly wonders if he's dreaming.

Maybe he fell asleep and is having an absolutely wild dream where he is kissing his best friend. 

But no, it's not a dream, he can tell by how very soft Connor's hair feels---nothing is ever this soft in his dreams. Besides, it’s very warm in the house, and if he were asleep he would've woken up by now to take off several blankets. 

Evan tastes the cloying chocolate and cinnamon-graham cracker in Connor’s warm mouth, and he thinks he could stay doing this forever. When Evan falls, Connor follows, laying atop him and he deepens the kiss in a way that sets Evan’s blood on fire. Evan keeps his hands threaded through Connor's hair in an effort to keep up with Connor's nearly urgent kiss, and he welcomes the brief second pauses they take for air. The blankets lay on top of them like a cocoon of warmth that only holds them and the sweet things they pass between each other. Connor can't seem to get his fair share of touching Evan because his fingers brush circles over Evan's checks, behind his ears and up into his hair, in a constant cycle of discovery that never seems to end. 

Just as he thinks that he's really getting the hang of this whole kissing thing, Evan doesn’t mean to, but he turns his face away and yawns.

Connor draws enough away to look at him with eyes that dance in amusement, “I don’t know if that’s cute or insulting, Ev."

Evan blushes deeply, “I’m sorry," extreme embarrassment gnaw at him for yawning while Connor was kissing him and also for the fact that _Connor was kissing him. _

“Don’t be. You’re too cute for your own good,” Connor hides his face in Evan's neck and chuckles tenderly, the sound of it makes Evan think of honey. 

Evan giggles in surprise, “Thanks..." he navigates his hand from Connor's hair and rests on his back, "I think you’re cute too.”

Connor lifts his face up, eyebrow raised and he gestures at his face and everything, “You think _this_ is cute?”

“If I didn't think so I would’ve burped in your face or something.”

Narrowing his eyes playfully Connor pointedly asks, “Does that 'or something' also include yawns?” 

Evan tilts his chin up and pecks him on the mouth, "No, no it doesn't."

They kiss again, but not for long because they found they were both pretty sleepy. So, they fall asleep like that. Evan holds Connor to his chest and Connor nestles his face in his neck, holding Evan in turn. 

Before dawn, Evan wakes up from his sleep to the feeling of Connor sliding out of his arms. He blinks up into the dark, and can just barely make out Connors figure by the light of a distant street lamp. Somehow, Connor noticed Evan blinking blearily up at him and touches his cheek very slightly, he whispers softly, “Go back to sleep.”

Evan murmurs through his sleepy voice, “Where’u goin?”

Softly, once again, “Sleep.”

And, Evan falls asleep. 

In the morning Evan wakes up to a note with a picture of a bonsai tree drawn onto it. On the back:

**Evan,**

**Goodbye**

******

After dinner at the Murphy’s house, it takes him two months to open up the folder of Connor’s drawings. Thumbing through each drawing is like scratching open a fresh wound over and over again. 

Drawings---So many drawings. 

Drawings of people, drawings of animals, trees, cartoon characters, and even full copies of comic book panels. _ So many drawings. _Some of them have color and others don’t. Some of them are dated and go as far back as 2006 while others aren’t dated at all. 

Evan finds an old old drawing that looks like it was made in preschool. There is a family of stick-figures standing on a bright green hill, they are all holding hands and smiling as the sun scribbled into the corner grins down at them. There’s only three stick-figures. The one with long strands of bright pink hair and a roundness to its stomach is supposed to be Cynthia from when she was pregnant with Zoe. In the middle is a smaller stick-figure with blue hair scribbled atop its little smiling head, and hanging onto stick-figure Connor’s stick hand is a taller stick-figure with similar blue hair dashed atop its head: Larry. 

Evan wonders when it all went wrong. His thoughts conjure up different ideas, but he gets sickened with himself for even trying to piece together what hypothetically went wrong. 

To distract himself, he shuffles through the drawings, and finds portraits of what Evan recognizes to be various actors and musicians. He wonders why Connor chose these specific people to draw. He entertains the idea that Connor is actually with him and he quietly gives voice to his thoughts, pretending that his best friend (and almost something more) is there to hear it. 

_“Why did you draw these actors? Did you have a crush on them or something?”_

_“I bet you had a crush on them because this must’ve taken hours to draw.”_

_“Could there be another reason you drew them? Maybe it’s the lighting. Most of these have pretty dramatic shadows…”_

Moving a little closer to the back of the folder, Evan finds a self-portrait, possibly made years ago if he ages it by the hair cut. Connor intently stares out of the drawing. His features are a little out-of-proportion but not so much that it’s immediately obvious. Even if he’s not smiling in the drawing, a small smile tinged with wistfulness tugs at Evan’s face.

_What were you thinking about when you drew this?_

He caresses the lines, some part of him feeling closer to his best friend that has gone away. Not for the first time, Evan wonders where he is. 

He thinks to the open and empty air: _where are you?_ _Do you recognize that there’s a hole that you’ve left behind? It’s not too late to come back home and fill it. Actually, it’s never too late---not if it's you. _

Evan jumps from a sound that comes from outside---it's simply someone getting out of their car. Evan briefly imagines that that person stepping out of their car is Connor instead. Sighing, he returns his attention back to the folder so he can pick out another drawing, and a jolt of surprise runs through him when he finds himself tucked inside the folder. He shakily pulls out the paper and finds that there are a couple more drawings of what looks like him. Actually, they _ are _ him. He recognizes his nose, and his eyes, mouth, and hair. There’s no mistaking it. Some of them are loose sketches, the pencil so faint as to barely be there. These ghost-like lines fuse to make vague impressions of Evan’s face; they look like they had been made absentmindedly with the way that each semi-study was left half-finished. 

One of the handful of drawings of Evan is the one that Connor had made down at the orchard, it looks like he had cut it out of the sketchbook and put it in the folder for some reason. Evan wonders if the other is still in the sketchbook or if it’s hidden somewhere between all these drawings. When Evan flips the picture over on a whim he’s surprised to see what looks like a half-written letter because the very top of it has the customary “Dear Evan Hansen.”

It’s not _ exactly _half-written, rather, it’s more like its 99% covered up because most of the letter is scribbled out in thick lines as if erasing it or using white-out wasn’t enough. The thick black lines unintentionally give off the appearance of a sky above the one line that was not crossed out---either intentionally or by negligence. Evan’s eyes fall from the blotted out lines and he reads the lone survivor spared from the great eradication of unwanted words. 

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

_ Huh? _

Evan scratches his head. If this letter is for him, what could Connor have written about that would’ve led to such a sentence. Was it meant to be a part of a joke? 

Or is it---

Evan whips out his phone, Google’s the sentence, and finds that it’s a part of a poem by Sylvia Plath called “Mad Girl’s Love Song.” Before clicking on it, Evan feels some trepidation. If Connor had written most of it out but then crossed it out then that must’ve meant he would not have wanted anyone to read it---including him. 

But he’s curious and he’s only human---so he clicks on it and reads:

“I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; 

I lift my lids and all is born again.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, 

And arbitrary blackness gallops in:

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed

And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)”

Evan can’t read anymore. His heart thumps loudly in his chest, feeling like it’s going to jump out of him and cover the floor with all the words he had just read. The ink will be the deepest of black ink, littering his room in the secret knowledge that Evan really should’ve left alone.

Shakily, and not at all aware that he’s even doing it he calls someone. 

The phone rings two times before Jared picks up, “This is the 21st century, _ no one _ calls on the phone anymore.”

A bucket of cold water dashes over his mind and Evan comes to his senses, he quickly hangs up because he has no idea what he called him for. He’s feeling a whole lot of emotions and somehow that translated into his subconscious contacting the one person who he would normally never call in a moment like this. 

His phone rings again. It’s Jared. Evan ignores it. 

It rings again and there’s a series of text messages that range from “That was the lamest prank call ever” to “What the fuck? Pick up? Did you die? Wtf????”

Evan finally picks up Jared’s call, cursing himself for getting himself in this mess in the first place. 

Of course, Jared is the first to speak, “I know I said what I said about this being the 21st century and phone-calls basically being rendered obsolete, but that does _ not _ mean you call someone and then hang up on them right after they very kindly pick up your call,” after a few seconds of Evan not saying anything he says, “This is the part where you speak into that magic rectangle in your hand...In case you’ve forgotten.”

Heart still racing, Evan bites at his nails, “Can I see you?” _ I’m hurt. I’m hurting so bad. I need someone right now. _

Jared pauses and then laughs, “Didn’t get enough of me at school today?”

Whole-heartedly, Evan concludes that this was a mistake, “Actually, I called you by accident. That’s why I hung up...I’m sorry.”

“Is it even possible to butt-dial someone on these phones? I don’t think so. You asked to see me? I’m kind of in the middle of doing nothing right now, so if you have a good reason for me to go over there then I’d very much like to hear it.”

Evan sighs in exasperation and actually feels some of his previous panic wilting away. That doesn’t mean he’s any closer to being relaxed, if anything he’s getting a bit annoyed. He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Forget about it. I don’t want to interrupt you while you’re busy doing nothing.”

As if picking up on Evan’s mood through the phone, Jared firmly says, “Nuh-uh, now I’m curious. I’m going to your place now.”

Evan jumps, “What? No---” a bit of relief comes in at the prospect of seeing his friend so he just mutters, “You don’t have to…”

“See you in ten,” Jared hangs up and Evan paces around his room until he arrives. 

The first thing Jared says upon seeing him is: “You didn’t throw up did you? You look absolutely terrible right now.”

Evan doesn’t think he did, but now that Jared mentions it he kind of wants to. 

“If you’re thinking about it now; stop it. I just got here and I am more than ready to leave.”

“No, I didn’t and I’m not...Just---” He pulls Jared inside and they awkwardly sit on the couch. 

Jared immediately relaxes into the couch, “So, why did you call me? Need me here in case you have a fainting spell?”

Evan distantly notices he still has his shoes on, and just as distantly he says, “I don’t know…”

Jared flatly says, “You don’t know why you called me here?” 

“Don’t say it like that, you already know I didn’t mean to call you.” 

Jared rolls his eyes, “Ok, so are we just going to quietly sit here for the next half hour while you visibly have The Stress Sweats over something that you could very easily tell me about?” 

Evan fidgets, “It’s not that easy…”

Jared raises an eyebrow as if signaling for him to continue. 

Defeatedly, Evan hangs his head and says, “I can’t tell you.”

“You’re in love with Connor,” Jared deadpans. 

Evan whips around so fast his neck cracks in several octaves, “What?!” It’s like Jared straight up punched him in the gut.

As if unaware of the tremendous amount of shock that he just dealt Evan, Jared lifts a finger and taps it thoughtfully against his chin, “Or more specifically, you two were in love with each other,” he finds Evan gaping at him like a fish, “Oh come on,” Jared rolls his eyes, “I mean, it was obvious. You guys spent so much time together. I didn’t know that Murphy could do anything other than brood, but anyone with eyes could see he had feelings for you. Dude, I'm nearly blind in one eye and even _I _could see that. And then _ you_, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve and you looked at him like he hung the moon and stars,” he said it plainly enough but there was an undercurrent of something else to it---maybe envy, “Did you really not know?”

"I mean we..." Evan tugs at his hands, unsure if he should even say it, "We kissed..." he sees Jared gearing up to say something along the lines of that proving his point, but Evan hurriedly says, "But it was just once. R-right before he d-disappeared."

"Dude..." Jared's face twists into something like sympathy, "That's crappy timing."

Evan ruefully chuckles and hugs himself, "Yeah..."

Jared leans in conspiratorially, "Was he a good kisser?"

Evan flusters, "_What?! _You can't ask me that!"

"I just did. So, was he?"

Evan narrows his eyes at him, "Why do you want to know?"

"Morbid curiosity. Indulge me won't you?"

Evan firmly says, "No way."

"Fine, keep your secrets."

Evan lightly laughs but then the weight of everything swoops in and crushes him like a giant tree suddenly falling to the Earth. He covers his face and is suddenly all too aware of that hole that Connor has left behind, “Why did I not realize until now?” 

"Um...Realize what?"

Evan gives voice to the things wringing his head like a wet towel, "I think I---I think I loved him."

"I thought we already established that?"

Evan briefly flares up in frustration, "You may have realized it but _I _didn't," just as quickly as that frustration appears, it dies away, "and I didn't realize it till now..." His voice wobbles slightly at the end because a deep sadness is welling up inside him once again. _Will it ever go away?_

Impromptu, and like he's tasting the words, Jared quietly says, “Sometimes it takes losing someone to realize the things you never even knew you had.”

Evan presses his hands into his eyes, feeling them well up in tears and he says, “Isn’t it ‘you don’t know what you’ve had until it’s gone’?”

“I’ve heard it both ways," Jared obligingly says. 

“Fuck,” Evan thought he was all out of tears but it’s actually easier than expected for them to make their reappearance. 

He feels a stiff pat on the back and recognizes it as Jared trying to awkwardly comfort him. He lifts his head slightly to look at him and finds Jared giving him a troubled look. He surprises him by saying, “I don’t like to see you cry,” Jared lifts one side of his glasses and wipes a finger over the tears that are edging his eyes, “it makes _ me _cry.”

“Oh, I’m s-sorry” Evan doesn’t remember the last time he saw Jared cry. He vaguely remembers this one time, many years ago, when they were riding their bikes and Jared fell rather hard and started to cry. There was another time, even further than that memory, when Evan’s parents were getting their divorce and Jared was there to comfort him. However, they ended up comforting each other because Jared had gotten upset when Evan was heartbroken and crying about his father going away. It’s strange to have Jared starting to cry because Evan is. 

Jared lightly shoves him, “You weirdo, what are you doing apologizing to _ me _ for? _ You’re _the one who’s crying.”

“Y-yeah, but I m-made you cry because _ I’m _ crying.”

Jared helplessly laughs up into the sky, “God, we’re fucking hopeless.”

“Yeah,” Evan slumps, “I guess I am. Hopeless, that is,” Evan wipes his eyes even harder, urging the tears to stop and give him a break, “I miss him, you know?”

Jared doesn’t say anything but he reaches over and squeezes Evan’s hand, “I know I haven’t always been around...And I’m sorry for you know, pretending we weren’t actually friends…” Jared rubs his temples, “God, that was really shitty. _ I’m _shitty and I’m sorry for that, I’m sorry for pushing you away the way I did when we started high school. It’s just that---” Jared inhales deeply and blows a breath out, he shakes his head and then says, “Well, it doesn’t matter. Or, at least it doesn’t matter right now. Anyways, what was I saying? Um, I guess I just wanted to say that I’m here now. You know, I’m here...for you…” a tinge of pink starts seeping into Jared’s cheeks, “If you need me…”

Evan can’t help it, he gapes at Jared, not at all expecting for him to say any of these things. Heart warming over, he thanks him, and while Jared ducks his head and looks away, Evan notices that Jared still has his hand in his. And, he finds that it's actually kind of nice. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem is as stated: by Sylvia Plath. I rec u read the whole thing, it really is a gorgeous poem. 
> 
> I am now proud to announce that the second half of this fic is going to official begin with the next update! WOW I didn't expect to get this far tbh, but I'm super E X C I T E D to roll out what I think will be the fun part of this story. Thank you for being patient with me, I've never written a story this long before and I'm still learning how to write. So, I do hope you'll stick around and see what I have planned :D
> 
> Thank you for reading so far! See you next update!


	12. Cycle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE (APRIL 2ND): I changed the dates from what they were before. 
> 
> Completely, completely random ---I was listening to an anime op (LISA - Crossing Field) and while I was editing the dream sequence everything in my head turned anime for a second---it was wild. I usually listen to Son Lux while writing and I particularly like Alternate World, Flickers, and All Directions.
> 
> Here's a new chapter! Enjoy X)

_Evan Hansen is riding a bicycle through a road that shimmers and undulates beneath his pedaling feet. His legs freely cycle over and over as a watercolor sky soars over his head; a tangerine sunset washes warm summer air over the world. He’s Icarus, and the clouds of the sky are golden fields of wheat that fan out like wings. He peddles harder, merely to savor the sweet joy of riding a bicycle, and as he speeds up it feels like he’ll lift off at any moment and start flying. Just as he considers what it might be like to peddle into the sky, a wave of turquoise water crests out of nowhere and launches him up into the air. _

_ He still peddles even if it does nothing to keep him in flight; he flies; he knows not where but he flies over villages and cities. He flies over a train and a beautiful bridge. He flies over the sights and sounds of chefs at work---dough crisping in ovens and sweet tomatoes being sliced, revealing their ruby windows. _

_ As if it were always meant to be, his bicycle gently sweeps onto a beach. As he lands, silver sand sparks up into the air and billows like fairy powder. _

_ A huge golden disc hovers over the night sky. It is a glowing, golden doubloon; heart-breaking as a hymn. It looks like a portal to another dimension. Ocean waves catch its fiery light and set a trail of sunken gold in the water, and Evan feels compelled to follow. He looks behind him; there is a city on the mountains, the small golden lights that wink out of each building’s windows shine as brilliantly as if they were burning from within. _

_ Abandoning his bicycle, Evan approaches the gentle lapping of the waves and automatically reaches his hand into the water knowing that he'll find something. What meets his hand is air; the water doesn’t feel like anything. But, he feels something small and thin slither into his hand. Opening his fist he sees it’s his red fortune slip. It’s blank. _

********

**5 Years After Connor Vanished: August **

August 9th 

Tonight is our last day in SF until Jared and I leave for our two month travels in Europe. It feels weird to call it a vacation because I have to finish my manuscript while we travel (due to my poor planning) but I know I’m very lucky to even be taking this trip at all. I don’t know why I’m writing at all right now, I mean, I just finished packing and there’s nothing much to say. Tomorrow we have to wake up at 5 in the morning. Wish me luck with waking Jared. 

August 12th 

Turns out Jared was the one who needed the luck. I couldn’t sleep last night and only caught an hour of rest. I did not make it easy for him to get me out of bed. Anyways, we’re heading off to SFO right now. If you don’t hear back from me, assume our plane crashed----why did i say that? If possible I think I made myself even more nervous…

August 13th 

We’re in Ireland. 

I thought it’d be cold. In all those shows and movies that take place in Ireland it always looks so cold and foggy. I like the fog because it's almost like magic. It's one of the only things of nature that's truly quiet. Leaves rattle, waves crash, wind blows, thunder clashes, and the fog is silent. It's calming in the way that it makes me think of disappearing or of dream-states because when it gets really heavy it seems like nothing exists. I guess the fog in San Francisco has grown on me; it’s very easy to love it. I’m off topic---it’s actually pleasant here in Ireland. I need to get a sweater though because it’s quickly growing dark and we need to find where we're staying. Tomorrow we’re going to go outside and explore Dublin...Can you imagine that? Never thought I’d ever do such a thing. 

August 14th 

I finally had Irish Soda Bread. It just tasted like regular bread but you have no idea how pleased I was to finally get my hands on it. There was this time in high school when I was walking by the culinary class and I smelled something divine. It smelled like that feeling when you're under a blanket and it’s raining outside. It smelled like sunlight through honey. I think it smelled that way because it was freshly baked and/or baking. I say this because when I finally tried it the smell was more muted. I still enjoyed it of course, but I think there's probably something special about ovens and bread. Maybe it's like clouds and the sky. Or rain and soil. A special unity in all of it. 

.

.

.

August 17th 

We’re on our way to Scotland. 

We’re going to go do that train thing from the Harry Potter movies. Jared is excited about that, I can’t say I’m not looking forward to that either. I liked those books too after all. Never could understand why I was Slytherin…

August 18th

Saw Loch Ness. I will admit that 12 year-old me was really disappointed to not see the loch ness monster slide out of the lake or something. So, I imagined it and then I ended up remembering how I used to draw that monster over and over again when I was younger. I liked the part where the body curved out of the water and looked like letter “C.” I liked making the bottom half disappear under the water line because it felt like I was making an illusion of sorts. If I included what was underwater it wouldn’t look as cool. 

Oh, yeah. We also saw Aldourie castle. It was pretty cool. 

.

.

.

August 20th 

Made it to England. London is a joy. We were on the London Eye and I thought about doing it. You know what. No, not jumping. Don’t be ridiculous. I was thinking about the ring in my pocket. I don’t know why it never feels like the right time. I mean, we could be having a great time and then I’ll think about it and then think that...I might ruin everything. Why is that? 

August 21st

<strike> Dear Connor, </strike>

I saw Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers.”

They were huge and larger than life. Staring at them made me want to sit inside the painting. I wanted to sit there and just breathe in the sun flowers. Do they have a smell? I think the proper question is: are they fragrant? Anyways, I don’t think they are. If they are, what would they smell like? Maybe they’d smell of warm caramel and sugar. Or maybe they’d smell like rain-soaked trees and stained glass. I asked Jared; he looked at me like I was crazy, but then he said they might smell like spaghetti...Honestly. 

We went to the British Museum. We saw many mummies and I saw the Rosetta Stone. I wonder how much the museum would have if everything were returned to their rightful countries? There’d be a lot of empty, beautiful rooms is what would happen. That’s kind of beautiful in itself, isn’t it? Quiet, empty space. Like, we could walk in that empty room and we would be the museum pieces. But, we'd be looking for something to look at and say hmm that's very old and pretty, and we'd all be standing there not realizing that _we_ are the art exhibit. Would that be disappointing? I don't know, you tell me. 

August 22nd

_Hey Jude, don’t make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better._

Went to Abbey Road. Jared and I wrote our names on this little cement fence they have outside Apple Studios. It kind of reminded me of my cast and...Well, it looked like a cast because it was all white and there were so many names written on it from people who were here minutes or years ago. It was like it was a cast for the Beatles. They split up, kind of like how my arm broke.

I don't know where I am going with this. Anyways, I was about to write my name really small, but then I thought what the hell? And I wrote in big letters EVAN HANsen because then my name would've crashed into some pretty flower someone drew. So, I had to write smaller in order to fit my whole name. Oh well, I probably should’ve planned in advance. 

We also took a picture on the road. I didn’t take as big a step as I should’ve so it didn’t really look like I was walking. Jared teased me and said it looked like I had no idea where I was. And it did look like that, but that was only because I was trying to imagine walking behind Paul McCartney or George Harrison. What’s it like to be a Beatle, I wonder? If I were a Beatle a lot of people would've signed my cast that's for sure. 

.

.

.

August 24th 

We’re in Paris. I can do it now. It’s the City of Love after all, but I won’t. 

Sometimes I think I’m just afraid of being alone. I can’t say if it’s the same for Jared…

But maybe…

Forget I said that.

August 27th

Van Gogh’s garden was lovely. It was like a living, breathing painting. How was he able to capture all this life? I want to stay here forever. No one would mind if I just slipped into the water and went to sleep right? 

August 29th

We’re going to Spain next. Jared keeps telling me he wants to see a bullfight. I’m like 99% sure he’s bullshitting me (I really hope he is---Also, pun intended). 

.

.

.

September 1st

I guess I'm going to Italy by myself. I don't really know how I feel about this. My first instinct was to be upset, but after talking it over with Jared, I feel ok. he wants to stay a while longer in Spain and then meet me in Italy after a couple more weeks. To be honest, I feel a little nervous about traveling by myself but I think I'm more excited about the prospect of finally being in Italy. I'm about to take a series of buses to Switzerland and I'm just trying to focus on enjoying our time here, even if we're going to split for a bit. 

********

He has twenty minutes until he needs to board his train. Evan hasn’t had any semblance of breakfast and he needs to get something in his stomach fast or else he’ll arrive in Milan as a starving man. Now, if he hadn't skipped dinner last night, then skipping breakfast normally wouldn’t be such a predicament. But he _did _skip dinner and so now he has a splitting headache and he’s ravenous. Great.

With a quick cup of coffee and a muffin in each hand, he nearly runs into someone as they hop into the same train compartment as him. Thank the stars that Evan didn’t drop his coffee or spill it all over the stranger. He never did like coffee before, but as he grew older he found he developed an unexpected taste for the bitter drink. If he had dropped his coffee he probably would've cried. Unfortunately, his muffin fell onto the floor. He forlornly stares down at it and mentally calculates how long it would take to run back to the booth and buy a new one. His brain sends an acute pang of pain behind his right eye and he inwardly curses his bad luck. Gloomily, he looks up at the person who participated in this tragedy. 

The man is tall and lean, he has blonde hair long enough to tuck very slightly behind his ears and a pair of Ray-Bans sit on his nose. The man apologetically gestures down at the poor muffin and says, _ “mi dispiace, ti posso comprare uno nuovo?” _

Not understanding a single word, Evan mumbles, “I’m sorry--I uh, I don’t understand…” He thinks that the man was speaking Italian, and he vaguely recognizes it because of his Italian roots on his mother's side, but it’s nothing comprehensive. 

He’s completely surprised when the man smoothly says, “Oh, You speak English,” He grins, “Me too.”

Hearing English is always more of a relief than he expects it to be; like things are suddenly clearer and feel more steady. Doesn't mean that his headache is going to pack up its bags and leave anytime soon.

The man says, “Sorry about your muffin. I was just saying I could buy you a new one.” 

Surprised by the offer, Evan, louder than he probably should says, “No, it’s alright. I can go get another.” Behind the man, Evan spots a clock and mentally estimates how long it would take to get another muffin _and_ also get a good seat in the train. He should have enough time. He points directionlessly behind himself, and as he does, he spots a small food stand; Evan starts inching away, "I'm gonna---" and then he jogs to the stand and purchases a croissant. 

Stepping into the cool train and looking at all the people who fill the seats smacks Evan with memories of high school---it isn’t all that pleasant to remember. It’s just as hard as it was then to search out an empty seat; he has to scan his eyes over all the people who sit in the seats lining the inside of the train compartment and try not to meet anyone's eyes. Making eye-contact in face-to-face conversations aren't necessarily a problem for him anymore. But, large group settings like this are because he suddenly becomes too aware of his own face and presence. It makes him nervous.

So, Evan grips all his travel things tight as it seems like there are no empty seats at all and he'll have to keep looking through other train compartments. His coffee cup threatens to crumble in his hands when he's surprised to spot a hand waving at him from the back of the train: it’s the man from earlier, and he's grinning a bright white smile at him.

It’s like all of his old high school insecurities are flooding into him out of nowhere in the middle of this train in Geneva, Switzerland. Evan feels Old Evan’s uncertainty in talking with others resurge and Present Evan crushes it down. He can’t look a gift horse in the mouth because next to the stranger is a blessedly empty seat and he is not about to pass up the opportunity to slide his backpack off, sit down, and eat his well-deserved breakfast. 

With a strengthened resolve, Evan speeds towards it.

The man flashes another smile at him, and Evan privately thinks he has a nice smile when the man delightedly says, “Muffin man! I’ve saved a seat for you since you didn’t let me buy you another one as an apology.”

Oh no, maybe this man is the sort of person to talk non-stop to strangers in public transport. Evan hopes he isn't. Nevertheless, Evan can't help quirking a smile at the nickname, “It seems like I’m not _ really _a muffin man; because you see, I have a croissant with me now.”

“Semantics,” the man waves him off and falls silent as Evan carefully climbs out of his traveling backpack and stows it away up above the seats. 

Collapsing into the seat, Evan breathes a sigh of relief and glances out the window that's partially obscured by the man sitting beside him. Outside, people mill around the train station either waiting for the next train’s arrival or jogging to hop into the nearest train car. A thrill of excitement courses through him as he anticipates the train’s movement towards the place that he’s been dreaming about for the past couple of months. He hadn’t known he had had such a desire to go to Italy, but he had suddenly started getting these dream that had all to do with that sunny country and they were all very nice. 

Now, here he is. About to make his dreams a reality. His mood dampens somewhat when he spots an older-looking couple get on the train. The two of them help each other heave their backpacks onto the compartment up above and it’s sweet, but it reminds him of the fact that rather than a stranger sitting beside him---Jared should be.

Evan chewed on his thumb and deeply contemplated everything he could think of. He doesn't really want to think about the couple of weeks they're going to be apart, but he can't help it if his mind sinks into analyzing everything that seemed kind of off and wondering how he could’ve done better. Evan’s mind always seemed to be full with _ something, _and lately it's been full to the brim with ways that everything has either been going well or not working out as he had hoped. There's no in-between. 

He felt his coffee tip towards him very slightly as the train started to move---as if reminding him that he's hungry. Nervously he tears pieces of the croissant and eats them slowly, forcing himself to take his time with it between sips of coffee. Once he finishes, he debates between reading the ebook he downloaded on his phone or writing in his journal that’s tucked away in his pocket. Leaning more towards writing, Evan pulls out his pen and cracks open his fuller than expected red journal. The contents inside don’t detail every specific thing he and Jared have done, but it notes down the significant things that they’d seen and done. 

Now, as he is on the train, he finds himself compelled to write about the buzz of excitement coursing through his veins. He writes down the date, September 8th, and notes that he's on the train from Geneva to Milan. The passage is supposed to be filled with beautiful sights so he doesn't want to spend too much writing. So, he quickly jots down the fairly vivid dream he had where he was flying on a bicycle like that kid in E.T. He then writes a loose outline of where he's planning on going once he's in Italy. His hand moves quickly, far too slow for his head and his lettering soon turns eligible so he slows it down, stretching out his cramping hand. 

His eyes are suddenly drawn to the window as if magnetically drawn to the grand sight of a great gray mountain, tall and righteous as an ancient king; he gasps. 

Framed between dark, green mountains, the Matterhorn stands proudly like a sharp cloud of stone. It's majestic and dream-like; it looks like it shouldn't exist. Whipping past the train, a city made of red and brown buildings mesh into streaks of amber light and pleasant looking streets. His eyes jump between focusing on the Matterhorn and what must be the city of Zermatt. His eyes want to swallow all of it whole. 

Evan's journal slips out of his lap and he can't really bring himself to pick it up. 

_ How can it be real? _

“Beautiful, right?” The man beside him voices his thoughts in an awe-filled whisper. All Evan can do is nod. The man notices Evan's journal on the floor and hands it back to him. Evan thanks him and his journal ends up getting forgotten in his hands for some time as he unabashedly leans forward so he can better look outside. After his back grows tired, Evan leans back with flashes of all that beautiful scenery spinning around his head like a pleasant dance.

When his mind stops spinning, his eyes fall on an open sketchbook that wasn’t on the man’s lap before. The man looks outside at the scenery and back down at his sketchbook in turns that speak of ease. His hand flies across the page, an image of the mountain's likeness begins to appear and the man adds trees and fauna to it. He suddenly pulls out a ruler from his pocket and adds odd lines and geometric figures to it. The effect isn’t all that unpleasant; in fact, it looks really cool. The man bends down to study his drawing and as he does, his sunglasses slip down his nose slightly. Evan watches him huff quietly and pulls them off to tuck them in his shirt. 

Evan sucks in a breath so hard he momentarily sees black dots. 

_ It can’t be… _

Evan would recognize that profile anywhere. The sharp nose and chin, those delicate eyelashes and eyebrows. Those _ cheekbones. _

He can’t help it, Evan breathes out, “Connor?”

The man pauses, and he pops an airpod out of his ears. With a furrow in his brows he asks, “Did you say something?”

_ Yes it is!!! _Evan’s heart skips a beat, but then it falls as he gets a better look at the man’s face. The features and shapes are as they should be...But, they all look a little off. The biggest ticker to them all are the eyes because the man has brown eyes---not, heterochromatic. Plus, he’s blonde and his face is a little more fuller than Connor’s thin face. 

The man that is not Connor looks at him with concern, “Are you ok?”

Evan snaps his mouth shut, blinking away the sudden bout of dizzy that strikes him and he nods, “Yes, I’m fine. I just think I need to---” He points vaguely at the end of the train cart and just gets up without finishing his sentence. 

Evan flees to the small restroom and heaves for air. The man looked frighteningly like Connor. He doesn’t know if he can sit with the man for the rest of the train ride. But wouldn’t that be rude to just leave for no discernable reason? Evan splashes water on his face, it doesn’t matter if he’s rude. He’ll never see the man again. 

An odd hit of disappointment strikes him at the thought of it. _ No. _Evan shakes his head. He can’t be getting attached to strangers he’s only spoken five words to just because they look like his long dea--long gone friend. 

Minutes that feel like hours pass and Evan pries himself out of the bathroom when some obnoxious rider keeps knocking at the door speaking in some language he can’t understand. The person gives him a dirty look, along with all the people that had been in line. Evan ignores them and feels like death, he feels like the human version of chalk. 

When he shuffles his way back to his seat and prepares to grab his bag and move to another train compartment, he sees something on his seat. It’s a small white paper that looks like it was torn out of the edge of a sketchbook. It’s a drawing of a cartoon character he doesn’t recognize. The character is a little chubby racoon with big smiling eyes and a little hand that’s waving in greeting. 

“It’s Coco Rocco,” the man says in explanation.

“Oh,” Evan picks up the little drawing and feels a small smile edge at his lips, “It's cute.” Without a thought, he sits down---there goes his plan to switch seats. For a moment, it looks like the man is about to say something but then he closes his mouth with a thoughtful expression to his face. He looks at Evan in a considering way that Evan refuses to believe feels familiar in any way. But then he thinks he must've imagined the look in the stranger's eyes because the man looks away. They fall into a silence which Evan is very grateful for because he doesn’t think he’d be able to talk to this stranger who looks like Connor without running away. 

A blue lake runs beside their train like a mirror of the slowly darkening sky; it's flat like a disc of sapphire. 

When the train arrives at Milan and it’s time to disembark, he and the stranger exchange simple farewells and Evan can’t help staring at the man’s back as he disappears amongst the crowd.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if Zermatt is actually a city that the train from Geneva to Milan passes, but I fell in love with pictures of it and wanted to include it somehow. Also, Coco Rocco is entirely made up lmao, but in my head it kind of looks like that raccoon from Animal Crossing. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! Stay safe and healthy <3


	13. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan discovers that it's a small world after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: Gotta be real with y'all, I changed the journal dates from the previous chapter. I wasn't paying that much attention to them when I uploaded that chapter but then as I started really plotting out the next chapters I was like *kazoo kid voice* waaaait a minuuuute I need to fix this! (I will love u forever if u know kazoo kid).
> 
> really random, my favorite song rn is Jezebel - Iron and Wine. If u comment, will u lmk what your fave song is? I'd love to know!
> 
> o god o god, I edited but not as well as I would've liked DX. Sorry for any mistakes.

September 2nd 

_ I’m at Lake Como. How can anything as beautiful as this actually exist? I must be dreaming. _ _ I would say more but... _

_ Something very strange happened yesterday...There was a man who looked exactly like Connor. I think I’m going crazy. _

September 6th 

_Just arrived in Venice._

.

.

.

_ It’s truly a small world. _

Evan quietly ruminates these words to himself as he deliberates between quickly returning to his room to catch some more sleep or continuing with his original objective. It’s 5:45 a.m.---just a handful of minutes until the sunrise, and he’s only had three hours of sleep or so. He can’t decide whether he's the most non-sleepy guy in the world or the most sleep-deprived fool. Perhaps, there’s some sort of Twilight Zone between waking and sleeping that can explain why he’s seeing Connor’s doppelganger again. 

Connor’s look-alike strolls along the edge of the canal waters and holds a camera that he periodically swivels to snap a picture of some building or other. The man's movements are really quite lilting because he walks in a slow, measured pace as if to the beat of some silent waltz. 

Evan can’t deny that it’s a little creepy to see Connor’s look-alike. It’s been two days since the train ride, and if the man is also a traveler perhaps he just happens to be taking a similar route through Italy like Evan. 

Or maybe Evan is hallucinating. 

He had a quick snack from his backpack before he left his room and headed outside. Maybe there was something illegal in his energy bar. 

It’s very dark and there are a sprinkling of lights on in some of the houses. Evan remains in the shadows of a doorway of a closed cafe in an effort to try and stay as inconspicuous as possible since he doesn't want to be approached by the stranger. It's very off-putting to see him again not just because it's been a couple of days since the train ride, but because he looks like his lost friend. When he originally met the stranger in the train Evan had felt a whole mess of emotions. He was surprised, disappointed, confused, and worst of all, he had felt a brief sliver of hope before his heart at last settled into reasonable resignation---that man is not Connor. It doesn't do to dwell on impossible dreams.

Across the canal, buildings remain dark with sleep. In the banks of the canal, Evan can hear the gentle lapping of its waters so quiet as to barely be there. The stranger slows their meandering to a stand still as they prop their camera up and watch the sky. 

The sunrise is as glorious as seeing a heart miraculously pump blood in his hands. 

Why isn’t there any music? There should be the soft tinkling keys of a piano, or a booming choir, or perhaps a lone trumpet croon. There should be music falling out of the skies. If anything, people should be leaning out of their windows and clapping in joy and delight to see the sky shake awake and open it’s watercolor eyes. 

Behind him, someone props the door of the cafe open, and they turn to start flicking the lights on within it. While he’s thinking about his plan for the day, someone approaches him. 

It’s the man from the train; it’s Connor’s look-alike. 

Seeing him punches the air out of him and Evan freezes in-place. 

Connor’s look-alike doesn’t seem to think that anything is amiss as he pleasantly says, “_Buon giorno_, Muffin Man. What are the odds?”

Feeling as if his cheeks have gone all cold, Evan _knows _he's probably staring at the man in a disquieting way. He timorously mutters, “Small world,” and then looks down at his feet.

“Seems like that’s so,” The man says equally as quiet and cocks his head to the side as he considers Evan and Evan tries to stop himself from trying to remember if Connor once did the same thing. It's really hard to look the man in the face because memories Evan doesn't really want to recall keep trying to shove their way inside his head. Images of Connor crash around his vision but the images are all fuzzy with time. He just has vague impressions of a quick smile, flat frowns, long, brown hair and mis-matched eyes, but all of these things flicker so weakly in his memory that he can't hold onto anything solid and certain. Dismayed, he can't help it if he searches the man's face for anything familiar.

Behind him, he hears the tinkle of a bell as someone exits the cafe behind him. He turns around to eye the place and is about to excuse himself so he can get far, far away from this oblivious ghost but the man mistakes his search for an escape as an interest in the cafe and says, “Oh, you don’t want to go there. I mean, it’s _ good_, it’s very hard to find anything bad in this country, but I know a great place just across the bridge. Would you like to try?” The man smiles at him, and Evan gulps.

"I'm sure you're very busy."

"Not particularly. Besides, I haven't had breakfast yet and it'd be nice to have company."

Damn him for being charming. Evan wants to say no. He really does, but he must have some sort of masochistic streak in him because he says, "Ok," albeit with a hint of hesitation. In a bit of a daze, he reasons that if he spends a bit of time with this stranger, all thoughts of him being Connor will disappear. Evan doesn't know if that makes him feel relieved or sad so he resolves to follow the stranger over Rialto Bridge without thinking about that anymore. 

The smell of faint salt-water accompanies them as they climb the steps. At first they linger in a sort of awkward silence that makes Evan wonder if the man regrets inviting Evan along with him for breakfast, but then the stranger says, “I’m Antonio Prince, by the way. But I like to go by Tony.”

Evan accepts his hand shake and tries to remember what Connor’s hands felt like. Were they this long-fingered? They were paler than this; paler than Tony’s, at least. He’s not sure what expression is on his face but he musters a small smile, “I’m Evan Hansen.”

Tony smiles broadly, “Ok, Evan Hansen.” Tony pulls his sunglasses on and says, “Are you ready to have the best breakfast you’ve had in your life?”

“I guess."

“Oh, come on, there is no guessing.”

As if in a dream, Evan follows Tony through a few narrow streets until he hears the buoyant sounds of people’s chatter. Turning a sudden corner, the voices and activity he had been hearing are then shown to belong to a bustling farmer’s market where the people buzz around like eager bees. Snug beneath the clay and white buildings, are awnings of white and red that shade over a crazy garden of colorful fruits, vegetables and more. His eyes hungrily wash over the stands of plush apples and oranges and pears and god knows what else. Even, the tomatoes look so good he could bite them raw---he doesn’t even like tomatoes! 

Excitedly, he points out the obvious, “It’s the market! The Rialto market!” Realizing he has legs for a reason he runs over to a stand just to confirm he isn’t dreaming, “It’s been around for like a 1,000 years…” He doesn’t want to touch a particularly inviting apple in fear that he’d have to buy it. But he _ does _ want to buy it and eat it. So, he does. Exchanging his money for the apple feels like he’s taking part in a very religious and old ritual. Buying an apple has never been more exhilarating. 

As if his excitement is contagious, Tony says with more enthusiasm than it probably warrants, “Do you want to see the fish market?”

Evan doesn’t even like fish but he wants to see. Tony leads him towards it and it’s a shaded area with wet floors. It smells like fish---of course. But, it also smells ancient somehow, like the bottom of the sea floor. Evan stares at shiny, glassy eyed fish and pale octopus puckers. People go around pointing at different dead fish and buying them like they know what to do with them. They most probably do, and he wonders what they are going to make with the dead fish. 

Tony and Evan leave the fish market and Evan feels a certain kinship with his apple. Luckily, he doesn’t feel as if he’s lost his appetite. So, when Tony starts leading Evan towards a cafe called _ Caffe Del Doge _his stomach practically throws a fiesta in anticipation of sustenance. 

Sitting at a tiny table in the corner of a busy cafe, Evan rediscovers what breakfast is. Biting into the sandwich, an explosion of flavor hits him. The bread is a crushed golden panini with some meat that smells heady and sweet when combined with a silky bitter cheese. God, it’s delicious. Evan tries not to scarf the whole thing down after swallowing a heavenly portion. Tears prick in his eyes. He thought the breakfast in Paris was good but that was _ nothing. _

“I need to reintroduce myself,” Evan stretches his hand out, “I’m Evan Hansen. A pleasure to make your and this delicious sandwich’s acquaintance.”

Tony laughs and it’s pleasant. That is, if Evan doesn’t look at his face or the way that his eyes crinkle up in the way that he thinks Connor’s once did. Tony pushes the espresso macchiato he recommended pairing the panini with and Evan eagerly takes a sip of the bitter concoction. It sends an electric thrill through him and Evan briefly shivers at its strong flavor. Evan opens his eyes, belatedly realizing he had closed them, and he thinks that there must be neon green lasers beaming out of his eyes due to the powerful concoction he just downed. 

“I’ve been converted,” Evan breathes out; holding his espresso up to his chin just so he can smell it and be near it. 

Tony laughs again and takes a bite out of his croissant---or _ cornetto _ as he called it. “I can only imagine what you’ve been eating up until now. I once lived in America, you know? I mean, we also have cereal here, so there’s the American influence. But everything is fresh here and you can tell.”

Evan nods and savors his sandwich, “So, you’re from America?”

“Well, I lived there for some time,” Tony says noncommittally, and then he pats the black bag he’s been carrying with him, “I’m a photographer now. I’ve lived everywhere for some time.”

“What do you take pictures of?” Evan asks, interested. 

“Everything,” Tony says, and his eyes shine brightly, “Everything I find beautiful. But to be specific, I like skies, stairwells, and oceans. On occasion, I like photographing people---I mean, I _ have _ to for my job. But, if I’m out there running free with this guy,” he points to his camera, “Then I roam towards alleys and hidden places.” 

“So, that’s why you were at the bridge this morning,” Evan states; it’s not really a question.

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s any way for a sunrise to not be beautiful.”

For some reason, that statement is what makes Evan decide Tony is trustworthy.

They finish their breakfast in relative quiet only broken by an occasional question or two about the meal and cafe. And Evan thinks that this is the end of an odd but pleasant encounter, but he somehow finds himself walking towards St. Mark’s Basilica with Tony. Unexpectedly, he finds that he doesn’t really mind. 

As they walk, Evan takes in the old sights and sounds of Venice. Whilst doing so, Tony asks Evan all sorts of questions like where he’s heading and where he’s from. When Evan tells him that he’s from New York---Tony seems impressed by that. People always seem to be impressed by that, as if New York is the sort of place no one gets out of alive. Anyways, he told him he was from New York and that he recently moved to California. 

“I’ve always wanted to go to California,” Tony says.

“Oh?”

“Well, I want to go everywhere; I want to see everything. I think I’ve only seen like 5% of the world so far,” He then tells him everywhere he’s been. Listing many countries in Europe and South America. 

“I think that may be well over 5%,” Evan says, feeling impressed.

“Yeah, I guess," Tony concedes and dips his head charmingly, "I just like to think I’ve only seen 5% of everything, you know? There is no way you can actually see absolutely_ everything. _ I won’t see something with every single cloud that will ever pass over it in its lifetime. I won’t see it with all the same people around me ever again, they will have moved on somewhere else, back home, back to their hotel, hostel, whatever-- _ ” _

Because he is momentarily distracted when they come upon St. Mark’s Basilica, Evan absently says, "Of course." 

St. Mark’s Basilica is resilient as marble and fine as sugar; it’s an ivory soul that looks like some fantastical fossilized creature from the deep sea. Impossibly, it looks at once dead and alive; like a great, ancient tree. 

He hears Tony say, “Let’s say I’ve only seen St. Mark’s Basilica today. I’ve only seen 5% of it’s life...Actually, even less than that! But, 5% is easier to quantify. There’s no way for me to have seen what it was like when it was being built---”

Evan’s mind immediately starts building the basilica up from the ground. Admittedly, he does not know much of its history. He had read up on it at some point but it’s hard to remember the specifics of what he had read. He somewhat remembers something about stolen relics, a ship almost drowned by the sea, a stolen body---a holy man...An apostle? He thinks of these things and pictures that the sea water formed this building. He thinks of people working on it, appearing and vanishing in the sunlight as the decades flew by---faceless people, but their hands were there. 

From what Tony is saying, he too is a faceless person in the history of this Basilica; in the history of this city, this country, this world. 

Evan murmurs this: “We’re ghosts.”

It looks like he interrupted Tony in what he was saying because the man looks at him curiously, “What?”

“Nothing…” Evan feels his face heat up in embarrassment. Why did he say that? 

“Ghosts…” Tony ponders this, and Evan wants to correct him and say he said something else but Tony says, “Why do you say that?”

Evan scratches his head, “I don’t know...This place makes me think of ghosts. I was just---I was just imagining everybody that’s been here for all the hundreds of years this building has been here and it was like fast-forwarding a video. It’s impossible to know who they were, what they were like, what happened to them. But, they were here...” 

“So, if we pause somewhere in that video, we’ll find ourselves there very briefly. Like ghosts.” Tony finishes for Evan, the mood somehow not turning somber. It’s impossible to be somber in the sunlight, but the energy around them as they enter the hollow walls of the Basilica is meditative. 

“Yes, 5%” Evan simply says. They pause and look at each other; they are quiet for a long moment before they smile like a secret was just shared. 

They explore it’s golden insides. It's warm, soft, and sacred---like the vulnerable parts of a living thing. 

********

Evan likes Tony and he’s sad when their day slowly approaches its end. 

They went to the Bridge of Sighs, the Doge’s Palace and roamed many of Venice’s streets. Sometimes they’d pause so Tony could take a shot of some interesting building or other, and the number of sights to see were shown to truly be inexhaustible. 

The sky is a dusky, dark blue as night swiftly approaches. After walking the streets of Cannaregio, Evan and his new friend sit at a table beside the canal waiting for their dinner. There are a couple of docked gondolas filled with people just seemingly hanging around in them and chattering away. Evan’s feet hum with a low soreness that buzzes softly as he finally relaxes them after a long day of exploring. He takes a cold sip of water and says something that he’s been thinking about all day, “You’re pretty familiar with Venice. I take it you’ve been here before?”

“I’ve been around Italy a couple of times over the years. Are you asking because I’ve basically been your tour guide today?” He asks in good humor. 

Evan sheepishly says, “Yeah, thanks for that. You’ve been really good company. I was just thinking about how you’ve probably already seen everything we visited today and I was wondering why you came with me?”

“I don’t know, it was kind of nice just showing someone around. I mean, this is probably my fifth time coming to Venice and I may know my way around the city fairly well, but even the most familiar sights have something yet unseen. I might find a new angle or a new perspective that I hadn’t thought of before when taking a picture of something. The lighting could be different, the sky could be clear or more cloudy, there are more or less people, and so on,” Tony shrugs. 

“Do you live here in Italy then?”

“Yeah, I’m rooming with some friends of mine in Rome.”

“That’s cool!”

Tony gives him a crooked grin, and Evan weirdly thinks that it's the first real one he's been given all day. That thought quickly dissipates when Tony says, “It’s nice but it can also be annoying living with them.”

“Why is that?”

“They’re one of those couples that are sickly sweet with each other,” Tony's grin turns fonder, “I guess I’m lucky I even have a place to stay so I’m not like drifting in the wind or anything, but you would think they recently got together after confessing love for each other," He shakes his head and whispers, "_No, _it's only an illusion. They've been together for ages.”

Evan chuckles, “I see, that sounds kind of sweet."

“If you stayed with them for any period longer than a week then you’d change your mind,” Tony pauses and sincerely says, “I don’t think I’m being fair to them, though. They are good people and I owe a lot to them. I mean, they think that if I moonlight as their accordian every once in a while then that’s sufficient payment for letting me bum in their home and stuff.” 

“How did you meet? Wait, you play accordion?” 

“Yep, I’m not very good, but I’m passable. I’m still learning; Coco’s father has been teaching me how to play for a while. He pretends to get annoyed by the fact that we’ve been practising for over a year now and I’m still not too hot. He tells me that he needs to lock Bernie, his dog, in the back yard when I visit otherwise I’ll make the dog cry for hours afterwards. And then he also tells me that one day his great-great-grandfather will materialize as a ghost and crucify him for ever trying to get such a lost cause as me to play,” Tony pauses for a sip of water, “You’re probably wondering ‘but why do his friends let him play in their band?’ I ask them that too. I’m like, do you even want to get recognized by a recording studio? I’m just kidding, no matter what Pedro says, I _ am _pretty decent at the accordion now.”

Evan can't believe his luck in making such an interesting friend. He's half-convinced he's made Tony up inside his head. 

They pause while their food gets served by their waitress. Evan ordered the lasagna because he spotted someone a couple tables away from them eating it earlier and it looked really, really good. Tony ordered a fresh green plate of salad with a side of fried potatoes. A few minutes pass in silence as they hungrily dig into their meals, and then after Tony finishes a fat fried potato he says, “I’ve been talking a lot about me, why don’t you tell me a bit more about yourself?”

Oh, Evan’s never really been all that good at that. He actually been really enjoying hearing Tony talk. But it's ok, he was bound to ask sometime. Evan racks his head for something to say about himself, “Um…” He chews at a piece of lasagna to stall for time. Absently, he thinks about how bright the flavors are and how the pasta melts in his mouth, “Um..” he says again because his mind is dangerously close to close-circuiting from his food. 

“Do you play any instruments too?” Tony offers.

“Oh no,” Evan shakes his head, “I never learned to play anything.” it’s not like he didn’t want to learn; it’s just that they never really had the money for him to pick up the piano or something. If he could’ve learned an instrument he probably would’ve liked to have learned the guitar. Mostly because Zoe always seemed to really enjoy it and he likes the sound of it. 

“Is there anything you would’ve wanted to play?”

“The guitar,” he realizes he’s giving fairly simple answers, and tries to elaborate, “My friend plays the guitar and she’s really good at it. I always admired her for it. She's always looked so happy playing it and I guess some part of me wanted to...experience that too." For a brief handful of seconds he thinks of Zoe and finds that he misses her, Alana, and home. 

“You could always pick it up you know?”

Evan snaps back into the conversation, “Yeah, it just always seemed like it was too late to learn.”

“Hey, I’m twenty 23 and I just started to learn the accordion a year and a half ago. You can learn to play the guitar now or a year from now...Whenever the hell you want because it’s never too late.”

“Thanks,” Evan smiles down at his plate, and then cocks an eyebrow, “I can learn now?”

Tony’s eyes crinkle up in a laugh, “Yeah, no. I was exaggerating right there.”

“I thought you maybe knew the guitar as well because of your tattoo right there,” Evan gestures at the tattoo partially in the bend of Tony's elbow. Tony’s had his sleeves half-rolled up the whole day, showing off a series of tattoos that climb up both arms in interesting symbols, geometric shapes, and words. Evan’s been meaning to ask him about them but he didn’t know how.

“This thing here,” Tony looks down at his arm and pushes his sleeve up a little higher so that the full tattoo of the guitar can show, “Nah, this is merely decoration,” his fond tone suggest otherwise. The sleeve slides down again as he resumes eating, “So what else do you like?”

“I don’t know,” Evan scratches his cheek, “I like writing.”

Tony's eyes spark, “That’s right, you had a journal with you on the train. What were you writing about?”

Evan taps his fingers together as his thoughts flit to Jared. He wonders what he's doing right now. “I’m journaling about our trip. I just write about what my boyfriend and I do during the day and where we’re going.”

Tony's fork accidentally scraps against his plate, “You have a boyfriend?” He looks briefly surprised but then politely asks, "Where is he?"

“He’s not here right now.” Evan internally cringes, _obviously. _He awkwardly continues, for some reason feeling bad, “He wanted to stay in Spain for a while longer so we decided to meet later like in two weeks.”

“I see,” Tony looks down at his food with an odd expression. 

“He really liked Spain,” Evan lamely states. 

Tony distractedly moves his last bits of food around his plate, “I actually haven’t been.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, I was there for like two days but I didn’t really see much.”

“Why not?”

“Work," Tony shrugs. 

It occurs to Evan that maybe Tony thought they were on a date or something and he’s not sure whether he should apologize for misleading him in any way. Tony suddenly says, “Do you want some tiramisu?” And he looks normal again, as if it wasn't awkward just a few seconds ago. 

Deciding to not pass up the opportunity for things to go back to normal, he swiftly agrees to the cake, even if he’s not sure if he can stomach anymore food. After they place their order Evan asks, “So, do you like to read?” He asks this because he doesn't want to fall into an awkward silence, and also because he’s fairly sure that the words on Tony’s arms are quotes, but he’s not sure if they are quotes from books or song lyrics. 

“Are you asking because of this?” Tony lifts his wrist. Beneath his palm, where a bracelet would wrap around, are words a little too small for Evan to read from where he sits. Tony stretches his hand out so that Evan can see it better, it says: “So it goes…”

“Vonnegut.”

Tony flicks his eyes up at him, “_Slaughterhouse Five.” _

“Is that your favorite book?”

Tony softly rubs a thumb over the words on his wrist, “Kind of? I have a quote from _ Slaughterhouse Five _ on me but it’s not my favorite book of his. My favorite is _ Breakfast of Champions _\---that one killed me. It was so funny. It’s about this dude that thinks he’s the only real person on Earth and that everyone is just robots.”

“That sounds kind of sad.”

“In a way it is, but mostly it’s just ridiculous and I love it alot.”

“If that’s your favorite book of his then why do you have “'So it goes…' on your wrist?”

“Why do we do anything?” Tony jokingly says, “No, I have it because that’s how it is on this bitch of an earth,” Tony briefly turns somber, he turns away eyebrows pinching forward slightly, “'So it goes,' is kind of like well, that sucks or like saying well, shit, I guess that happened. And sometimes that’s all you can ever do after things fall apart, just turn around and look at everything that’s gone wrong and say, ‘so it goes.’ what can I do about it? It’s better than thinking why do we do anything at all?” At Evan’s expression Tony falters, “Sorry, I---I just identify with it, you know?” 

That’s when the tiramisu settles onto their table. 

“Tiramisu is here,” He cracks a weak smile, “Not all of my tattoos have meanings to them. Some of them I just got for the hell of it.”

“Like this one,” Tony points to a small hand holding tulips on his forearm, “No meaning at all, I just thought they looked cool.”

“It does look cool.”

They smile at each other over the table and then they start digging into the desert. 

After dinner they part ways outside of Evan’s hotel. Evan told Tony he didn’t have to walk him back but Tony waved him off and said he wanted to head back to Rialto Bridge which is pretty close, and get a couple shots of it in the dark. 

Before Evan heads up to his room he shuffles his feet on the ground not really wanting the day to end, “Thank you for showing me around." He jokingly adds, “You were a good tour guide.”

Tony taps his chin thoughtfully, “Thanks for the reminder, I’m going to need $100 in payment for The Tony Tour.”

Evan raises his brows, "Really?"

“Of course not," He grins.

“Okay,” Evan grins back. 

“Okay,” Tony rocks back and forth in his boots, “Well, if you’re ever in Rome, make sure to look for me and my friends in The _l'Istituto_. We usually get the later slots at like 9 p.m. or so."

“Alright, I’ll look you guys up.”

“Cool.”

“Good night,” Evan starts walking backwards towards the entrance of the hotel.

“Yeah, good night,” They wave at each other lazily. Evan giggles and so does Tony. 

“Okay, I’m going in.”

“Okay,” Evan goes to the door and looks behind him. Tony gives another small wave, “Night.”

********

Once he’s in bed he surprisingly just doesn’t black out straight into a dreamless, exhaustion fueled sleep. Instead, he calls Jared. 

Jared doesn’t pick up but he does text him after a couple of minutes. 

**Jared: Shouldn’t call. Texting is cheaper, remember?**

Evan: Yeah. Wanted to call and see how u were doing tho

**Still alive if that’s what you’re wondering**

Good. What did u do today?

**Walked around you know**

Round a merry-go-round?

**Yeah how did you know? **

**No, i didn’t go on any merry-go-rounds or ferris wheels today. **

**sorry I'm tired. Lots of walking.**

**U?**

Been around

**U can’t copy what i said. That's illegal**

Went to St. Mark’s Basilica and saw the Bridge of Sighs

**So you’re in...Venice?**

Yeah

**Cool. try not to fall into any canals. **

When do u think you’ll be coming over here?

**Soon, there’s a couple other places I want to see**

Ok

**Asdfsagh**

???

**My phone fell on my face. I’m going to sleep now unless u wanted 50 texts just with asdfsfasdfas as the content. **

Alright good night

**Night**

Feeling glad he checked in with Jared, Evan submerges into sleep the minute his head hits the pillow, but it’s not exactly dreamless. 

********

_ Evan is in a gondola that floats upon crystal clear water. There aren’t any fish swimming in the canals, but there are faint flashes of gold and silver coins. He vaguely considers jumping in the water to try and collect the coins because he could be rich if he filled his gondola with them. But he can't bring himself to disturb the peace in the water that's barely disturbed by the progress of his gondola and his invisible oarer. _

_By itself, the oar dips and lifts out of the water and skates the gondola forward and under the shadow of a bridge until it comes to a quiet stop. _

_Evan looks to the side and there’s a door with a placard on it with the number 625 etched onto it under the bridge. The number feels familiar but he’s not sure why, so he steps out of the gondola, slides into the water, and wades his way up to the plain brown door. Gold and silver shift under his feet and tinkle like bells but he ignores them as he twists the door’s handle and opens it to reveal his old dorm room. _

_ He doesn’t really want to go inside this old place because it reminds him of how stressed and lonely he was during his time in college. Going inside would be like going into an old workplace just for the nostalgia of seeing the bathroom. He turns around, intending to return to the gondola and ask the invisible oarer to take him somewhere more interesting, but the gondola, the canal, and the bridge aren't there. In their place is a doorway filled with darkness._

_Curiously, he reaches a probing hand into the empty doorway and stares at the entrancing way his hand disappears into the thick shadows. _

_ Evan’s breath hitches when suddenly a face materializes out of the blankness. He stumbles backwards as two ghosts step out of the doorway and proceed to walk through him like he’s nothing. They laugh, and the mingling of their laughter sounds familiar but he’s more preoccupied with the fact that he was just walked through. He pats his chest and face to make sure he's still solid. _

_The laughter chimes through the room once more and Evan turns around to see the ghosts. He recognizes Jared immediately upon sight but he looks different. A little younger and softer around the face. He wears much of the same clothes that Jared wears nowadays, which is to say a combination of: graphic shirts, jeans, and sneakers. But given the frame of his glasses, Evan deduces that this is their junior year of college. Turning his attention to the other person he feels a shock of something like fear pierce him. _

_It’s not normal to see himself sitting there, and a very primal feeling of uneasiness takes over to see such strangeness. _

_Evan wearily watches the Evan from two years ago speaking with Jared, but he can't seem to hear what they're talking about. They seem to be having a good chat because Evan is gesticulating wildly with a bright glint in his eyes while Jared nods along, never taking his eyes off Evan. _

_ Curious, and wanting to hear what’s being talked about, Evan draws closer and sits beside his other self because then he doesn’t have to look at his face and how weird it is to see it. The moment he sits next to other Evan, sound suddenly pops into existence as if a bubble were popped. The lighting in the room brightens up and the window which was previously blank with darkness turns into a fuzzy bright hue of blue. _

_ There’s the distant sounds of people moving around in the dormitory halls but nothing sounds clear; it’s all just a soft hum of noises that rise and fall. A hand whips in front of Evan’s face and he turns to see himself explain to Jared why mushrooms aren’t actually considered to be plants. _

_"Uh-huh," Jared has a perpetual eyebrow raised in amusement and---something that Evan now recognizes---affection.  
_

_Evan watches them interact, and in all honesty, it’s kind of nice to the two of them this way. He had never thought to consider what someone from the outside would think of them. And now, looking at him and Jared, he can see the familiarity and comfort between them because the Evan in front of him seems very bright and happy. It almost feels weird to see himself that way, because Evan remembers how he had often felt so sad and tired. He muses that perhaps this memory is one of his better days from his college years. _

_Evan slides onto the floor so he can better look at the both of them as they talk about meaningless things. He soon grows tired of studying their faces and of hearing their entirely ordinary conversation. Why is he dreaming of this memory? _

_ Evan explores his old room, trying to see if there’s anything he can entertain himself with as this dream passes but there’s nothing corporeal. His room is otherly barren of anything else other than his old bed and the two people who sit there. _

_ And then he hears something curious, and something he most definitely remembers, “---biggest mushroom I’ve ever seen was one I stumbled upon with Connor. I didn’t even know the name of it then, and I didn’t realize that that was the biggest one I’d ever see, and Connor---“ Evan scrutinizes his own face at the mention of Connor and finds what he's always suspected would melt into his expression when he would recall his old friend: longing. Evan's heart twists painfully in his chest to see it written so clearly in his eyes. He's always been told he wears his heart on his sleeve, and it mortifies him to know that other's can so plainly see his feelings just by looking at him._

_As if to confirm Evan's realizations, Jared says, “Do you realize that you always do that?” _

_ “Do what?” Evan blinks out of his wistful reverie, but a hint of melancholia dulls his eyes somewhat._

_A few beats of silence pass as Jared eyes him. He finally says, “Talk about him.” _

_ “Connor?” _

_ “Yeah, you could be talking about whatever and then somehow it’ll always lead back to him. We could be talking about movies or about how the walls in your room smell like wet cheetos, and then you’d somehow bring him up and be like 'Connor liked Pride and Prejudice,' or 'Connor’s favorite book was Catch-22,'"---that wasn't Connor's favorite book, and Evan can tell _ _that his other self wants to correct Jared, but decides that it's better not to. Instead he quizzically listens to Jared because he can tell that Jared, even if he’s speaking in a very sarcastic and light way, is actually hiding some hurt and bitterness, “Hell, we can even be talking about some time when we were kids and you’d bring him up. Do you realize this?” _

_ “I guess, I mean, I don’t really think about it,” Evan ducks his head and nervously taps his two fingers together. Watching this, Evan feels an echo of the sadness he had felt at that moment. _

_ “Exactly, you don’t think about it. How do you think that makes me feel?” _

_ Evan glances at Jared and mumbles, “Weird?” _

_ Jared laughs, almost meanly, “Weird, yes. I definitely feel weird to hear you talk about a dead guy every hour of every day.” _

_ Evan flinches to hear him and Jared seems to realize what he said. Jared rubs his eyes behind his glasses, “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.” _

_ Evan’s heart raises fast like as a hummingbird’s wing in his chest and he glares down at his hands, “He’s not dead,” he mutters darkly. _

_Suddenly looking exhausted, Jared says, “I know. I’m sorry, ok. I was a bastard for saying that.” _

_ Evan doesn’t say anything to agree or refute that. _

_ Jared suddenly stands up and paces around in a small circle, looking very much like how Evan does so when he’s nervous or frustrated, “Ok, I admit it, I do feel weird and I can turn into a jerk when you talk about him. Do you want to know why?” _

_ Evan shrugs and hugs his knees to his chest, and kind of wishes that Jared would go away for a little while. His eyes feel a little hot around the edges from threat of unshed tears. He blinks them away and then finds himself reasoning that that Jared didn’t mean what he said and apologized, so he half-heartedly nods his head and wearily glances up at him. _

_ Jared stops walking in a circle and comes to stand close to dreaming Evan. Evan takes a step back to watch this whole thing play out as he remembers. He watches Jared from the side, like a spectator, and he watches as his face suddenly turns both vulnerable and edged with a little hint of resolution, “I feel weird and turn into a jerk and stuff when you talk about him because I---” Jared turns suddenly to the window and bites his lip, “I _ _like you, Ev.” His blue eyes earnestly widen as he brokenly admits, “I have for the longest time.” _

_ “Oh,” Evan stares up at Jared in shock, his hands falling from his legs. _

_ “Yeah, that’s why," Jared holds eye-contact for as long as he can before he defeatedly stares down at his beat-up sneakers. _

_ “I see,” Evan slowly says. _

_ A long pause follows where neither of them look at each other. _

_Evan awkwardly says, “Ok.” _

_Jared nervously jerks his gaze up to Evan, “Ok? What does that mean?” _

_Slowly, and with great apprehension, Evan says, “I don’t know how I feel.” _

_ “Is that a polite way of rejecting me? It'd be easier for the both of us if you just said it straight up, you know? I can take the bullet, it's ok."_

_ “No, I do care for you… A lot.” _

_ “You do care for me but you don’t like me like I like you," Jared nods like this was what he expected all along, _ _“It’s because you’re still in love with him right?” _

_The thought of Connor and_ those _feelings still sends something like an earthquake through Evan, but he shoves it all down and says, “No, that’s not it.” _

_Jared gives Evan the most rueful smile he's ever seen as he knowingly says, “It’s ok, Evan. Just tell me you don’t like me like that and we’ll forget about it.” _

_ “I don’t want to,” The words tumbled out of him with a nervous lurch of his stomach at the thought of forgetting what has just transpired. _

_Jared furrows his brows, “You don’t?” _

_ “No..." Evan fiddles with his hands again, and finds the lines in his palms the most fascinating things in the planet as he quietly says, "I’m willing to try though. With you.” _

_Jared flatly says, “You mean you’re willing to find a replacement for now is that it?” _

_ “Not at all!” Evan fidgets, “About Connor...I just--I don't know what to say. I just miss him you know? But, I don’t think I---" Evan swallows, "care for him the same way I used to."_

_After Evan's admission, a silence lingers between them as Jared paces the room looking like he's torn with decision. He finally stops and says, “I don’t want to be something you’re just settling for because he’s not here.” _

_ “You aren’t,” Evan says with as much sincerity as he can project into his voice. _

_ “So, we’ll try?” This is the first time something like hope edges into Jared's voice. _

_ “Yeah."_

_ Jared brightens up and hops on the bed beside Evan, “Let’s try and go on a date then, how bout it?” _

_Jared's enthusiasm is flattering and also appears to be contagious because Evan giggles, “Okay, where?” _

_ “Let’s go catch a movie later today."_

_ “Alright."_

_ The memory slows down until Jared is smiling at Evan as a grinning Evan looks down and away. _

_ Evan steps out of that memory carrying a feeling of emptiness that he can't explain. _

_On the other side of the door, the canal and the gondola have returned to him. So Evan wades through the water, stepping on gold and silver until he can heave himself up into the crescent boat. Once he sits, the gondola gracefully skates out of the shadow of the bridge, and when Evan looks up he sees he has company. _

_"Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you."_

_Evan gasps; it’s Connor. He looks healthy and content. His achingly familiar eyes twinkle warmly down at Evan like little stars and Evan craves to reach out and touch him to confirm he's really there. A big moon lingers behind him like a halo and he's one of the most beautiful things Evan has ever seen. Evan stares. _

_Connor sits down letting the oar fall into the water without so much as a splash. He repeats his __question in an almost chastising manner, "Where have you been?" As if _Evan _is the one who's been gone for years. _

_Evan crosses his arms in mock-irritation, but his happy smile betrays him, “I can ask the same of you."_

_ Connor smiles like Evan said something funny. _

_ “Really, where have you been?” _

_ Connor shrugs. _

_ Evan sighs, “Connor..." And it feels outrageously good to say his name again._

_ “Look."_

_ Evan looks at where Connor’s pointing and he’s gesturing to everywhere around them. They aren’t in the Venice canals anymore; they are in a gentle sea at sunrise, and then they are in a sleepy meadow, and then they are in the sky, and then they are nowhere. It's blank all around them. _

_Evan peers off the edge of the gondola and feels queasy when there's nothing below them. He brings his attention back to Connor, “Is this your way of saying you’re everywhere and nowhere at once?” _

_ Connor shrugs again. _

_Evan's heart starts beating fast when he senses that he's going to wake up soon, “Won’t you come back home?” _

_ “I forgot what that is,” Connor flatly says and his eyes look blank. _

_Evan edges closer to him, finally reaching out to grasp his hand, “I can help you remember.” _

_Connor blinks down at their hands, “How?” His voice sounded so meek and child-like; it makes Evan heart hurt. _

_ “Just come back to us.” _

_“Don’t you mean to you?” _

_“Yeah..." Evan nods, and squeezes his hand, "To me.” _

_ Connor's eyes meet Evan's, “I’ll try.” _

_ “Please.” _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOD, this chapter was so hard to edit and I have NO idea why; the whole time I was like I see I unsee I see I unsee. Anyways, I hope you liked this update. Please let me know if this is getting boring or if there's anything in terms of plot that you'd like to see and I'll try and weave it in. I mean, I added the dream/memory thing at the end because a number of you said you'd like to see how Jared and Evan ended up together. 
> 
> I hope you are all doing well during these trying times. Stay safe and healthy.
> 
> One last thing, I stg, one last thing. PLEASE WISH ME LUCK! Im going to get notified about uni decisions in like 10 days and I'm freakin. I really REALLY hope I get into UCLA. Gosh, I'm so excited and scared. aaaahhh
> 
> Ciao~ X3


	14. l'Istituo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan arrives in Rome and goes in search of the l'Istituo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've somehow landed myself with three more WIPs. This is still my top priority tho X)
> 
> Also, this chapter is a lil dialogue heavy---just a heads up.

September 12th

_Back in my hotel room after a long day in Florence. I can’t decide which city is my favorite and I’m starting to think it’s impossible to even choose. I’m going to go to Rome in a couple of days, I think I’m going to try and find that club Tony mentioned. I don’t think I’ll stay to say hello or anything...I mean, I want to, but I also feel nervous about doing that. Maybe I won’t go to the club at all, but I would like to see him and his friends. I don’t know. We’ll see._

_._  
_._  
_._

Evan takes the evening train to Rome and checks into a room before he goes in search of the _l'Istituo. _The air is hot and dry even when the sun is no where to be seen. The lights of the buildings are bright and illuminate the old city streets as people walk here, there, and everywhere.

Following Google maps, it’s a bit of a longer walk than expected. Some streets are busy with life and activity while others are cool with quiet inactivity. When Evan arrives to the club it’s a lot smaller than he expected. The _l'Istituo _is tucked in between two fairly modern looking buildings and has a charming old look to it. The windows to it are big and dark with soft blue and orange lights humming faintly inside. Evan peeks inside and spots a small stage with dark blue velvet curtains where a set of performers play a song Evan can only just barely hear. Evan sweeps his eyes around the bar and doesn’t spot Tony amongst the patrons, but it is rather earlier than when he said he would be playing so Evan decides to go inside.

Evan sits at a small table not too far from the stage and orders something to eat because he’s rather hungry. As he waits for Tony and his friends to go on stage he engages in watching the people sitting in the club. A majority of them seem to be college-aged and older. The performers on stage aren’t bad and the singer has a nice voice; he can’t understand what they are saying but it sounds like it’s a comedic song because the melody is rather jaunty and the crowd periodically laughs at the exaggerated expressions the singer puts on.

He’s right in the middle of eating his dinner when someone approaches his table: it’s Tony. He looks pleased and surprised to see Evan, “Muffin man, you made it!”

Evan wipes his mouth and smiles, “Hey, yeah, I just got off the train not too long ago.” 

“That’s good, that’s good. I see you’ve made yourself comfortable here,” He gestures at the plates in front of Evan.

"Yeah," Evan lifts one of his breadsticks, “Care for one?”

“No, we’re going to get plenty of those thrown at us in just a couple of minutes. Thanks though,”

“Hah."

Tony pulls out a seat and easily sits down, “That’s actually happened once, you know.”

Evan raises his brows, “Seriously?” 

“Oh yeah, it was when we were just starting to take our performances to the public."

“Well, I promise not to throw anything at you guys.”

“Appreciate that, though, I have to say I’d of course appreciate money.”

“I believe throwing money at performers is reserved for a different kind of establishment.”

Tony slowly says, “Might I suggest flowers then?”

“Sure.”

They grin at each other in humor. Tony suddenly looks over his shoulder at the sound of his name being hissed. Evan can see a young woman peeking from behind a rather inconspicuous door that he had not seen up until that moment. She has heavy eye liner around her eyes and widens them as she mouths for Tony to go over there. Tony nods and waves her off, the woman narrows her eyes and casts a glance at Evan before looking back at Tony and rolling her eyes. She does a snapping motion with a hand heavily decorated in rings and bracelets before she disappears behind the door.

Evan found that exchange rather amusing, “I take it that's your cue to go?”

“I still have five minutes or so, but that’s Z for you. She gets that way before each of our performances.”

“What does she do?”

Tony gets a bright look in his eyes and quickly taps his fingers on the table, “She plays the guitar and Coco mostly does the singing.”

“Cool, what are you going to---” Evan spots the door menacingly inch open again and he isn’t surprised to see Z piercing an irritated expression to Tony’s back, “Um---”

Tony looks behind him and then does some wordless communication with Z before turning to Evan and shrugging, “Ok, I gotta go now or else you’ll officially lose your tour-guide-helper-friend," Tony points at himself with both thumbs, "Which is me." 

“Alright, I won’t hold you up any longer,” Evan good-naturedly waves him away. 

“You weren’t holding me up at all,” Tony rises, “See ya,” Tony mock salutes Evan before marching towards Z who whips a hand out and drags him inside.

A few minutes pass and Evan watches the empty stage waiting for his friend to appear and wondering what songs they are going to play. People pleasantly continue to chatter amongst themselves as the curtain parts and an unfamiliar man steps out---that must be Coco. He has a nice easy smile on his dark face and he minds the microphone stand as Z steps out of the curtain followed by Tony. They are all dressed in similarly dark clothes. Z wears a dark purple blouse with black jeans and dark shiny boots that almost look like Tony’s. Coco is the only one who has a white t-shirt but it’s covered by an open long-sleeved black button up. Behind Coco, Tony and Z quietly and adeptly pull their instruments out of their cases, both of which flash in the dim light. Fluidly and with practiced ease they settle onto their stools and then start to play.

Z starts first. She strums her hand with all the rings the bands all flash in silver and blue as she delicately plucks the guitar. It’s a low and simple melody until the accordion joins in.

Tony’s instrument is a lovely thing; the accordion is a deep blood red and the white keys shine a pearly white. He almost lovingly opens and closes the instrument as his hands dance over the keys and buttons smooth as butter.

Coco has long tight curls that fall to his shoulders and he brushes them back as he begins to sing. He smiles easily at the crowd and many people fall silent to hear them perform. Z has a soft sort of concentrated set to her eyebrows that looks like she’s almost frowning at her instrument, but sometimes she’ll cock her head to the side and Evan could catch a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

They originally play some upbeat songs that Evan recognizes as a mix of popular American songs, and what he assumes to be, popular Italian songs. As their performance winds down they play a more slower paced song in English and Z sings this one and sways side to side and gently strums her guitar.

_These canals, it seems,_  
_They all go in circles,_  
_Places looks the same,_  
_And we’re the only difference_

After their performance ends, Tony springs out of the backstage door and returns to Evan’s table. Tony sits down with bright lights in his eyes as if the excitement from playing live has not worn off yet, “Hey, so what did you think?”

“You guys were great!”

“Thanks,” he looks pleased.

“I would’ve thrown flowers if I had any,” Evan eyes the big instrument case taking up a whole seat at the table as if it were a person, “This your accordion?” he asks even if it’s obvious that it is.

“Yes, it’s my sweetheart,” Tony rubs it like it’s a giant boxy cat, “Desiree”

“You named it?” Evan asks amused.

“Of course, ship captains can name their ships and pilots can name their planes.”

“Did you name your camera as well?”

Tony narrows his eyes and points at Evan, “You’re on to me, aren’t you?”

“What did you name it then?”

“If I tell you then you’d know all my secrets and there’d be nothing left to share" Tony crosses his arms, "Nope, I’ll keep my camera’s identity a secret.”

Evan snaps a breadstick and points one at him, “I can wish for it at Trevi fountain.”

Tony laughs and then leans forward and asks, “Would you really waste your wish on that?”

“Maybe,” Evan crunches on the bread.

“No, don’t do that. I’ll let you guess it. Let’s make it a game,” Tony leans back and waves a waiter over to order something that sounded like tiramisu---Evan’s ears perk up at that. When the dish arrives Tony gestures at Evan to begin their game with a vague gesture of his hand that says, “I don’t like drinking games. I hope this is fine.” Evan eagerly nods that of course this is ok and he holds his fork at the ready.

Evan taps his chin and says, “It has a historical name.”

Tony shakes his head and Evan takes a bit of the desert.

“It has a musician’s name.”

Wrong again. Evan grabs another bite.

“They are a writer.”

Tony nods his eyes flashing excitedly; Evan doesn’t take a forkful.

“You know, I’m almost tempted to ask the wrong questions just so I can eat more of this. It's very good. Why are the rules like this?”

Tony takes a bite of his own and muses for a second, “Yes, it’s very tragic. Too bad there’s nothing we can do. Alas, the rules have been this way since the dawn of time. Give me a wrong question and you can get another bit.”

“Fine, they are an American writer.”

“Yep.”

“Damn,” Evan steals a small forkful to which Tony says, “Hey, wait a minute.”

“A woman writer?”

“Yeah.”

“What a shame,” Evan playfully takes another forkful.

“You’re making the ancient gods very angry,” Tony warningly says when the lights flicker momentarily.

Evan ignores him, “They write fiction or nonfiction?”

“Non-fiction and a little of something else.”

Evan reaches for another forkful but Tony pulls it away before he can do so, “What did you do that for?”

Tony shakes his head and obviously holds back some laughs, “I'm upholding the rules that you’ve been disrespecting.”

“But I got the question right!”

“Fine, if you can correctly guess the name of the author in this next turn then this whole dish is yours.”

“And if I don’t?”

Tony says, “We keep playing as we were. I’m not cruel after all.”

“So, it’s not the ancient gods that I’ve been disrespecting," Evan crooks a grin, "But it's been you.”

Tony rolls his eyes, “You justify yourself in any way that makes you feel better. Just give me a question.”

“Um...To be honest I’m bad at remembering author names.”

“If you can think of something they’ve written and I’ll count that.”

“Ok," Evan asks unsure, "To Kill a Mockingbird?” 

“Harper Lee? Nah, I mean that’s a great book but no.”

“Hunger Games?”

Tony crinkles his eyes and laughs, “No.”

“Handmaid’s Tale?”

“Nope”

“Frankenstein?”

“Mary Shelley was English.”

“Oh, I don’t---” Evan scratches his cheek and deeply thinks to himself for a moment. One last try, “The Bell Jar?”

Tony excitedly cries, “Bingo! Ol’ Sylvia Plath.”

"Cool," Evan pumps a fist in the air, “Why?”

Tony shrugs, “I like her poetry. I have a tattoo quoting her.”

“You do? Where?” Tony unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt and Evan is surprised to find himself blushing as he does so. Evan averts his eyes everywhere and then Tony shows him the tattoo. Where Tony's heart is is: “_I am, I am, I am._”

“Cool,” Evan squeaks.

Tony buttons his shirt up, hiding the other tattoos scattered on his chest that Evan didn’t get a chance to look at, “It’s my turn now,” Tony says and eagerly grabs his fork.

“How do you mean?”

“I want to guess something about you.”

“Oh,” Evan nervously takes a sip of water because he has no idea what he should have Tony guess about him. All in all, Evan doesn’t do anything interesting. Yes, he’s written a book but he doesn’t really want to bring it up for some reason. He never really likes talking about it with others because it makes him feel like a faker. He rubs his hands and says, “Like what?”

“Anything. How about a favorite thing of yours?”

Evan roots around in his head for a moment and tries to remember something he likes. It’s like everything he likes has fled the building and moved to Kansas. When he thinks of something he tells Tony to go ahead and begin.

Tony confidently asks, “Is it a song?”

“No.”

“A book?”

“No.”

Tony furrows his brows, “A poem.”

“No.”

“Oh my God, not that I’m complaining about this cake but what is it? Is it a thing?”

“It's not,” Evan hides a smile behind his hand. 

Tony gets a forkful and the furrow in his brows deepens as he thinks.

“Is it a thing you can do?”

“Yeah”

Getting somewhere Tony leans forward and studies Evan’s face like the answer is written on him. Evan tries to not look away but it's hard.

Tony twirls his fork around his fingers, “Is it a thing you like doing?”

Evan grins, “Yep.”

Tony seriously says, “Dancing.”

Evan almost laughs, “No, do I look like I’d enjoy dancing?”

Mischief flashes in Tony’s eyes, “I can’t judge based on looks. It’s a valid thing. Anyways, how about sailing?”

“I wish.”

“You’d like to sail?”

“Sure, it seems like fun.”

“Hmm, it doesn’t appeal to me but that’s ok,” Tony forgets to get a forkful of the cake, “Play an instrument? O wait, nevermind you already told me you don’t. Let’s see, cycling?”

“I like it but that’s not what I was thinking of.”

“Jesus, you better give me a hint or something because there’s not going to be any tiramisu left for you.”

“Fair point. Alright, it is a physical activity.”

“You like sex?”

Evan chokes.

Tony laughs, “Hey, it’s a valid question. We’re in Italy after all.”

“It’s not that. And...Yes...I guess.”

“Yes what?”

Evan quickly says, “Ask me another question.”

“You’re cute," Tony snickers in his glass of water. 

“Another question,” Evan threateningly drags the tiramisu away from Tony.

Tony goes through a list of outdoor activities like running, cycling, and swimming but Evan denies each one. With each thing Evan rejects, Tony grows more and more incredulous until he asks, “Is it even something outdoors?”

“Yep," Evan's cheeks hurt from smiling so much. 

“God, um,” Tony lifts a hand and waves it up and down searching for a question, “Climbing??”

“Yeah!”

“Finally!!!”

“You got it!” 

They both laugh and Tony runs a hand through his hair like he had run a lap, “I did! So, you like rock climbing?”

“No,” when Tony looks confused he says, “Tree climbing.”

Wonderingly, Tony says, “You are full of surprises, you know that?” but it’s not mean spirited at all. If anything it’s fond.

“So, I’ve been told.”

After this, they play the game a couple more times even when the tiramisu is gone. 

It gets later without them realizing it and when Evan happens to look at the time he realizes he should really go back to the hotel if he wants to get an early start to the day as usual. He tells this to Tony who nods along and offers to walk Evan back to his hotel. Evan was inclined to reject the offer but he found that he was having a lot of fun talking to his new friend so he agreed. Besides, Tony said he lived not too far from where Evan was staying and insisted that he didn't mind. Once they reach his hotel Evan wonders how to broach the question of asking whether Tony is free the next day and if they could explore Rome together like they did Venice.

Luckily Tony brings it up first, “I’m free tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, would you like to meet up and roam around The Eternal City with me?”

“I would,” Evan tries not to sound too excited but he is.

“Great. What time were you planning on heading out?”

“Before sunrise like at 6am.”

“I can do that.”

“Really?”

“Sure, I’ll meet you out here?” 

“Ok,” Tony lazily waves at him and then leaves when Evan enters his hotel.

****** 

_Evan has another weird dream when he sleeps._

_He’s somewhere where it’s snowing. There’s an icy lake beneath his feet and the blue is the strong deep blue of a mountain lake. If he stares hard enough he can see movement that looks like fish so he bends down onto his knees to press his nose against the glassy ice. There are people down there and when they see him looking down at them the ice breaks and he sinks into the water._

_Evan tries to swim back to the surface but he just goes backwards until his feet touch the ground._

_He’s in another memory._

_There is nothing under water except for a ghostly street light and the distant noises of the steel contraptions of an amusement park and distant music. Somehow it’s raining under water---the water looks like thin gray beads that fall and disappear into the sand of the lake. Somehow there are puddles underwater and they look like imperfect circular discs of obsidian._

_Next to the lamp post are Jared and Evan._

_Evan is still surprised to see himself but it makes it easier if he just thinks that he’s looking at a stranger. The two of them are frozen under their umbrellas and staring up into the sky---so, that’s what Evan saw from up above._

_There’s nothing else for him to do except step closer to them and set the memory in motion._

_Jared despondently continues to stare up at the icy lake water that must have previously been a stormy sky that Evan can't remember, “Of all days…”_

_“We should’ve checked the weather forecast.”_

_“I did but it didn’t say anything about rain…”_

_“Really?”_

_“Ok, well maybe it said a 20% chance, but that’s 20%! That’s basically nothing.”_

_“Oh well, we can keep walking around right?”_

_“I guess,” Jared is still down and doesn’t move._

_“This was a sweet idea,” Evan comfortingly rubs Jared’s arm._

_“No it wasn’t, I don’t know what I was thinking...You never really ever liked this place anyway” Jared says dolefully._

_“I did…” Evan pauses, “Ok, well, I wasn’t really a fan of the rides and didn’t much like the arcade but it was still fun,” When Jared gives him the I-told-you-so-look Evan says, “I mean, look,” Evan twirls his umbrella above his head, “We’re here in the amusement park our parents used to force us to go to and it’s raining. We got some hot dogs, cotton candy, and went on the ferris wheel, and we even got these umbrellas," Evan shrugs, "It’s been nice, besides, doesn’t the rain look pretty?” Evan gestures into the air, and dimly colorful lights start to show in strings of lights and loops where rollercoasters and games remain as ghostly figures._

_“It does,” Jared concedes. In a rare fit of honesty he says, “I just wanted to go somewhere that felt like it was ours.”_

_Evan quietly thinks “_Ours without Connor_” and says, “I still remember that unicorn you threw at me.”_

_“I didn’t throw it at you; I gifted it.”_

_“You said something like Jared giveth and also taketh or something like that. You were a weird kid, you know that?”_

_Jared playfully narrows his eyes, “You’re one to talk.”_

_“I had reasons.”_

_“Do you mean issues?”_

_Evan lightly shoves him, “You had issues; I had anxiety.”_

_“Anxiety isn’t an issue?”_

_“It’s a state of being.”_

_“Enlighten me, O Wise One,” Jared says sarcastically._

_“You couldn’t possibly understand.”_

_“I want to go and win another unicorn just to throw at you for real. It’s going to be one of those giant ones and I’ll lob it at you so you'll fall and I’ll laugh," Jared wildly grins at the thought. _

_“Heh."_

_“What’s funny?”_

_“Nothing.”_

_“Tell me,” Jared nudges Evan._

_“You say that as if you’ll win.”_

_“Hey,” Jared kicks up some water at Evan to which Evan reciprocates the action in kind. _

_This leads to them kicking up water at each other, except instead of water it’s just sand that fans up into the lake in big clouds of silver until they disappear in a cloud of laughter. Once the cloud dissipates Evan and Jared are left grinning at each other, the bottom of their pant legs are soaked and dark._

_There’s the rumble of something like thunder and they look back up at the sky._

_“It’s cold,” Jared shivers and grimaces down at his shoes._

_“Yeah, let’s go home?” Evan takes a step and Jared nods, reaching for Evan’s hand for the first time and holding on. They walk away from the light post and disappear between the bobbing hints of light in the water._

_Evan’s left alone beneath the street light which turns off and leaves him in darkness._

_******_

In the morning Evan wakes up feeling weird from the dream. The memory was sweet and it should've make him feel happy, but it left him feeling bittersweet and inexplicably sad.

Evan sends a cursory text to Jared, just a simple: Good morning. But he has yet to receive a response when he steps outside to meet Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know what song Tony's band should play!!! I was always like ill figure this out later and then later never came. so I chose Cayman Islands by Kings of Convenience as a last minute resort---besides, I felt the lyrics kinda fit. 
> 
> So, I got into Ucla and Ucb!! But, I think I'm taking a complete U-turn and am gonna accept Ucb over ucla lol. But, I'm still happy I gotten into both of them! Thanks to all y'all who gave me well wishes. S.O. to banjostring---your plan to increase my strength in sweeping them all away worked regardless of the laws of physics. Thanks!!! XD 
> 
> Last time I asked what your fave song is, and this time I wanna ask what your food is?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	15. Wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fun in Roma---The Eternal City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyooo! A slightly earlier update! I had a good day so this was the result of some very nice sunny weather and chocolate ice cream. Anyone seen Roman Holiday? It's a greaaat movie. Audrey Hephurn is so lovely in it. And of course, Gregory Peck is great as well. haha ALSO idk Italian, any Italian folk out there, this apology goes to u: Im sorry, I put all my faith in Google translate.

It’s early morning at Trevi fountain and there aren’t that many people. Everyone is quieter than expected---the sort of low volume one may encounter in a holy place. The sun is just beginning to rise and the sky is all soft pastels. The marble walls of the fountain look powdery and smooth as a dream. 

Evan sits down on the fountain’s edge and admires it. Tony is quietly off to the side taking pictures of it until a handful of minutes pass and he returns to Evan and asks, “Are you going to wish for anything?” Evan considers the question. No wishes he may have come to mind but perhaps he'll think of something when he's about to toss his offering to the fountain. 

“Yeah,” Evan reaches for his wallet, “It’s three coins, right?”

Tony lifts three fingers and ticks them off as he says, “One so that you return to Rome, one for a new romance, and one for marriage.”

Evan pulls out six coins and offers three to Tony who accepts them with some bit of surprise, “For me? I’ve already made a wish a long time ago here.”

“Who says you can’t have more than one wish?”

“No one I guess,” Tony stares down at the coins in his hands.

Evan bounces the coins around in cupped hands as he silently muses to himself. He gets some idea for what he's going to wish for and asks Tony, “Have you thought of your wish yet?”

“I think so.”

“Are you ready then?”

They step closer to the fountain so their shins bump against the edge, “You want to do it at the same time?”

“Yeah,” Evan shrugs and smiles, “Why not?”

“Alright,” Tony gives him a wry smile and then they both turn their back to the fountain; Evan feels like the eyes of the statues are on them as they lift one coin, glance at one another and countdown, “One,” they toss the first coin.

“Two,” there goes the other; a silver streak in the sky like a shooting star at dawn.

“Three!” They giggle at the sound of the last coin splashing into the turquoise water behind them. 

They admire the fountain a while longer as more people start appearing. Tony suddenly asks, “Want to throw another coin while I take a picture of you? I’ll have you know, Sylvia Plath is a very nice camera. The best poet in town. I can send you the picture later if you give me your email.”

“Um,” Evan feels bashful for some reason at the thought of Tony focusing on him even if he is doing so with a camera. He tries to jokingly say, “A fourth coin won’t be one coin too many?”

Tony starts messing with his camera, turning it back on again, “No, the fourth coin will probably ensure you get good gelato or something.”

Evan laughs, “Okay.”

Evan turns around again and stares at the fourth coin while he waits for Tony to give him the go ahead. He’s not sure how he should make his expression so he kind of settles for pretending Tony isn’t there and hoping he doesn’t look too serious or happy in a staged kind of way. It feels like Tony is taking quite a while to find a position to snap the photo from so he’s about to look at him when Tony suddenly cries, “Make it fly!” Startled, Evan tosses it and watches it arc in the air with an excited smile. He hears the splash and finds the area of recently disturbed water. His coin sinks in the water joining thousands of others. Evan looks at Tony, “Did you get it?”

Tony stares at him with an odd expression and then glances down at his camera and a quick grin sprouts on his face, “Yeah.”

******

After visiting the Colosseum the two of them stop for lunch and people watch. They end up staying there for a while while Evan feverishly rides a stroke of inspiration and write in his journal. Tony doesn’t seem to mind sitting there long after their lunch, and he quietly keeps his head on his hands and comments on the people who pass by. Sometimes he’ll pull out his camera and walk away a couple paces for a handful of minutes to snap some photos but he’ll always return to their table. 

After about an hour of this Tony says, “You hiding a novel in there?”

“Of sorts,” Evan scratches his head with the back of his pen. As if remembering himself he looks up apologetically at Tony, “Sorry, this is probably boring you. If you want to leave you are more than welcome to.”

“Nah,” Tony reclines in his seat and brings his sunglasses down, “This is relaxing, actually. Although, I wish I brought my sketchbook so I could join you.”

“Oh,” Evan’s hand twitches because he doesn’t like to pause for a long time while he’s writing but he says, “Want some paper from here?” He’s already carefully tearing some out for Tony before the man can say anything, “Here and here,” Tony accepts the paper and pen with a hint of amusement.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Tony says and Evan shrugs. Evan goes back to writing while Tony gets up muttering something about a cappuccino. Evan doesn't notice when the man gets back until a cup of something bitter and sharp edges into his field of vision. Evan accepts the drink and sips it; it’s hot and pleasant and it also sends a current of electricity straight to his brain. 

He writes a bit more but loses whatever momentum he had. He doesn’t even think he really likes the scene but at least it’s something. Instead, he favors his attention on watching whatever Tony is currently working on in the small journal paper. Evan sips his cappuccino, feeling the warm mug in his hands and watches something beautiful materialize with each and every one of Tony’s pencil strokes. 

“What can’t you do?” Evan murmurs and Tony catches it with a quick glance upwards but doesn’t stop sketching the plaza and buildings that surround them. 

“Hmm?”

“You draw, play accordion, do photography, and moonlight as a tour guide. Is there anything you can't do?”

“Hah, no. I think that’s the extent of my abilities.”

“Are you sure? Are you secretly a Michelin chef or the next Houdini or something?”

“If I were a Michelin chef I think I would be the happiest man on earth. But, I can ask the same of you,” Tony points the pen at Evan and playfully wags it, “_You’ve _been keeping something from me.”

“Have I?”

“Oh yes,” Tony nods sagely, “Did you somehow forget to tell me you’re an author?”

“Well,” Evan embarrassedly says, “It never came up.”

“Sure it didn’t.”

“I mean, how would I? Hi, I’m Evan Hansen author of _Gaea's Pillars_ nice to meet you. I don’t know. It’s weird. Anyways, how did you find me out?”

“In the book store we went to a couple of hours ago. I guess you can say I'm somewhat of a detective, as well.”

“Oohh,” Evan fiddles with his fingers because he doesn't really wanting to talk about his book, “What are you drawing there?”

“Changing the subject are we?”

Evan huffs; Tony is not one to politely drop a subject it seems. He just looks insufferably amused. 

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know…” Evan sighs and decides to go with honesty, I’m just not very proud of it. I mean, at the time, I was happy I did it and I think I was proud of it but I feel---I feel like something is missing. Like, there’s something I still need to write. So, that’s what I’m working on now. The thing that I think I need to write about.”

Tony nods, “Hmm.”

Evan awkwardly laughs and feels self-conscious, “I didn’t make any sense there, right?”

Tony ignores that, “What is the thing you feel you need to write?”

Evan pauses. He doesn't really have an answer for that. At least, not one that would be easy to explain, “I can’t say.”

“Because you don’t know?”

“No, I do know…” Evan trails away and forces his head to work. He glances back at Tony, and maybe it’s because the man looks so like Connor that he says, “It’s about an old friend.” There. That's the simplest way to describe it. 

Tony’s face opens in surprise and he asks, “Who were they?”

Evan quietly says, “Someone important to me.”

“I see,” Tony fiddles with his pen and then it unbalances in his fingers and rolls off the table. Tony mutters something and bends to pick it back up. When he's retrieved it, Evan thinks it's time to change the subject and asks:

“Can I see what you are drawing?”

Thankfully Tony accepts this obvious attempt to change the topic and he silently hands Evan his drawing. It’s a beautiful pen drawing of the view exactly in front of Tony. This means that Evan is in it. However, he can’t see his face because he was seemingly bent down over his journal in such an awkward position that all Tony could see was the top of Evan's head. Evan's neck throbs distantly and he cracks it. In the drawing, next to Evan's hand is a cappuccino and behind Evan are the buildings and traces of people walking by. They are loosely defined and look like ghosts with the barest traces of mouths and eyes. 

Impressed, Evan says, "It's very good, Tony."

"Thanks, it's not finished though."

"Still, it's pretty cool."

Tony slides Evan his pen back and says, "You can keep it if you like."

"Thanks, but that's ok---"

Tony softly smiles, "I don't mind, it's you in the drawing after all."

Evan feels heat rise to his cheeks and he stutters, "O-ok, thanks..." Evan carefully tucks it away in his journal. 

******

It’s nearing sunset and they are meandering up and down the Spanish Steps with cool, sweet gelatos in hand. 

Back and forth, back and forth they go; Evan’s legs are starting to burn but at least he has his sugary treat to distract him. The sky is a sickly caramel and honey color as the sun begins its descent behind patches of pink and silver clouds. 

Evan licks his strawberry gelato and thinks 'life is good' when Tony conversationally asks him, “So, what did you wish for?”

“Back at the fountain?” Tony nods and Evan says, “Oh no, I already threw a fourth coin in there and risked cancelling out my wish," Evan incredulously laughs and says, "I’m not going to tell you because that would just double that risk.” 

Tony pretends to consider Evan's argument and then says, “Can you talk around it? Don’t say exactly what it is of course.”

Evan teasingly narrows his eyes at Tony, “Why do you wanna know?” 

Tony actually takes a bite out of his gelato and Evan internally cringes to see it, “I’m always curious about the stuff I'm not supposed to know, aren’t you? Don’t you want to know what I wished for?” 

Evan hums, “I guess...” 

He sing-songs, “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.”

Evan rolls his eyes, “Fine,” and he ducks his face to hide his grin, “Let’s see…” Evan stalls for time by licking his gelato, “It has to do with---a person.”

Tony snorts, “That’s the vaguest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“If I say anymore it’ll be obvious,” Evan skirts around a group of people also making their rounds up and down the steps. 

Tony reappears around the large group and walks beside Evan, “You’re not going to say anything else? For all I know you could be talking about wishing Kurt Cobain back from the dead.”

“Who’s that?”

Tony sputters incredulously, _ “The lead singer from Nirvana.” _When Evan doesn’t say anything it’s like Tony has been mortally wounded, “You know them, right? Please tell me you know them.”

“I do...If I hear a song from them I’m sure I’ll recognize them.”

“They sang the classics, the God-tier songs like Heart-Shaped Box, '_Here we are now entertain us_,' Bloom, Happy…” The names then sound familiar. 

“Sure,” Evan takes a small bite of his cone, trying to sound flippant and not at all sad that he’s been thinking of Connor so much today, “My old friend used to like them.”

Tony grumbles something like, “I’m sure he did…” And then he shakes his head, “What were we talking about? That’s right, my wish. Um...He says something fast and in Italian.

“What?”

“I told you in Italian because it doesn’t count since you don’t understand.”

“Hey,” Evan feels surprisingly disappointed, he was actually looking forward to hearing his friend’s wish, “That’s not fair…”

“So, now you’re curious, huh?”

Evan quietly finishes his gelato. 

“Ok, so maybe that was a bit unfair.”

Evan perks up and looks at him

Tony smugly says, “But that’s just too bad, isn’t it?”

“You’re hair cut’s dumb,”

Tony gives a surprised laugh, “What?” He reaches up towards his hair and pats it, “What’s wrong with it?”

Evan doesn’t deign him with a response

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you,” Tony hops down the steps towards Evan. Evan starts running down them and away from him with a giggle. He hears Tony say again, “Hey,” but it’s contorted by a laugh. Evan stuffs the finals bits of his gelato cone in his mouth and weaves around people as he runs up and down the steps with Tony on his tail. 

As the sun goes out in a flare of gold, they stop breathless from laughter. Evan also got way too out of breath with his wheezing laughs so he bends down, hands on his knees and smiles down at the ground. Tony catches his breath too and stands with his arms akimbo, eyes dancing in delight as he waits for Evan to compose himself, he lightly asks, “What were we just doing there?”

“I don't know,” Evan wipes his forehead and straightens up to a stand. 

“You offended my hair for no reason," Tony gives a small frown but he doesn't seem upset at all.

“It’s sentient enough to feel offense? That explains a lot,” Evan quips. 

Tony gapes and then says, “Dude…” 

“What? You were being insufferably secretive.”

“Wow. That’s a big author word."

Evan puts his hands in his pockets as they start walking down the steps again, “Whatever.” 

Tony flaps a hand and faux-casually says, “Yeah, it’s just whatever, you can get away with insulting my hair. You know, it’s whatever.”

“There you have it.”

Accusingly like those old villaions in old movies Tony wags a finger at Evan says, “Youuuu.”

Batting his eyes in a phony innocence, Evan says, “Me?”

Tony grins, “Yeah, you.”

Evan grins back, “What about me?” 

“Better if I keep it to myself,” Tony sniffs. 

Evan snorts, “Smart, or else we’ll be running around these steps again.”

At the bottom of the steps Tony points behind him, “Ok, well let’s run off somewhere else. I want to show you something.”

******

“What is that? Is that a boat?” Evan squints his eyes to see something that looks like lights on the dark velvet water of the Tiber River. Indeed, at the base of the river there is a large two-story boat. The boat is aflutter with activity from the sounds of glasses, music, and conversation floating in the air above it. Evan is somewhat surprised when they direct their walk towards it and make short work of closing the distance between them and the lively attraction. 

The boat is divided into two parts; both levels of the boat seem to be casual dining areas with a bar nestled into its cabin. The very front of it is circular and has an open space with a rainbow of lights flying in and around its dance floor. Some of the lights laser beam themselves out onto the water and make it seem like there are fireworks in the river’s water. People are shouting and laughing in delight as they swivel and twirl with the pulse of the music that jovially soars into the night sky. 

Evan admires the boat and the high rising stone walls that lead up to the street up above. He sticks his hands in his pockets and thoughtfully says, “This is a very nice place.” 

Putting on a voice equally as thoughtful Tony says, “Yeah, and we’re going in.”

Caught off guard Evan blinks at him in surprise, “We are?”

“Yeah, dude. It’s why we walked all the way over here,” When Evan continues to stare at Tony like he’s speaking in hieroglyphs Tony sighs goodnaturedly and starts walking backwards towards the boat---Evan anxiously thinks Tony could fall in the water---Tony waves a hand beckoning Evan to follow, “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Hah,” Evan nervously fiddles with his hands and against his better judgement, follows Tony as if attracted by magnets, “I don't know how to dance though.”

“I dance,” Tony shrugs, “Doesn’t mean I know _ how. _ Let’s embarrass ourselves together, how ‘bout it?”

“That’s not terribly persuasive you do know that right?” Evan grins and starts walking a little faster, something like anticipation sparking under his feet. 

Tony’s grin widens to see him start to follow, “What part of it wasn’t persuasive?”

“The part where we embarrass ourselves.”

They are practically right outside the entrance to the boat’s dance floor, “Give me one dance and if you don’t like it we’ll leave. Think of it as compensation for my excellent tour guiding.”

Evan pretends to deeply consider it before he nods once and stretches a hand out, “It’s a deal.”

Tony shakes his hand, “Deal,” and then he excitedly pulls him through the entrance.

The music is loud and strong and the boat’s floors purr with the bass and the slew of activity on its wooden beams. There are more people than Evan had thought there were when he was outside and looking into the place so he sticks close to Tony as they skirt around the mass of people. Someone elbows him in the ribs and he automatically reaches out to get a small hold on Tony’s shirt, Tony glances back at him and says something that gets drowned out by the loud music. One minute they are in the very thickest of the crowd of dancers and then the next minute Evan finds himself at the edge of the boat. A gentle cool breeze flows in through the wide open windows and brushes his warm face; it smells salty and feels very nice. Evan lets go of Tony’s shirt and then clutches onto the boat’s iron rails, “Phew,” Evan deeply inhales the fresh air and stares down at the glimmering water, “Wow,” he blinks and tries to settle the unreasonable rapid beat of his heart.

Tony reaches for him but then seems to think better of it and instead holds onto the iron railings as well. He tentatively asks, “Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Evan nods and frowns a little bit at Tony, “Sorry, it’s just...” Evan gestures vaguely behind him but forgets there’s people there and his hand glances off someone’s arm but they don’t seem to mind as they do some weird maneuver with their legs, “People,” he finishes lamely as explanation. 

“Ah,” Tony nods knowledgeably. His brows furrow in concern, “Are you going to be okay? We can g---” 

“We don’t---sorry for interrupting you---we don’t need to go. Just one dance, right?” He sees that Tony is not entirely convinced. So, he thinks fast and says, “Let’s stay here for a bit and then go in.”

Tony agrees and they lean against the railings to stare out at the water, lights, and night sky while an actual party booms with life behind them. At some point, Tony checks his phone and then laughs. He puts it away and says, "My friends are here, right now." He turns around and tries rises to his tip toes but he comes back down with a shrug and says, "Couldn't see them. Maybe we'll crash into them or something."

"Cool," Evan feels a mixture of curiosity and nervousness about meeting Tony's friends---he's not very good at meeting new people because he always feels so awkward and weird. While Evan mentally preps himself for possibly meeting Tony's friends, he notices movement in the corner of his eye. Tony is bobbing his head to the song roaring out of the speakers and then he notices Evan looking at him, a small smile quirks at the edge of his mouth and crinkles his eyes as he moves his head side to side and lifts his shoulders up and down. Evan covers his mouth and laughs, “Oh my God.”

Tony starts swaying back and forth to the melody. Watching him, Evan starts to become more aware of the music and finds himself rocking very, very slightly. Tony notices this, of course he does, and he moves side-to-side encouraging Evan to copy with his hands. When Tony moves towards the right; Evan moves left, and when Tony moves to the left; Evan moves to the right. Tony says something but Evan can’t hear, so he leans in closer and says, “You’re _ dancing. _” Evan keeps their close position so he can mumble, “I guess.”

“No!” Tony leans back slightly with wide blue eyes, “You are!”

Evan can’t help it; he laughs again, “Ok, I am!” 

They dance to the song and then to the next, and the next. All the while, Evan finds himself exploring different movements and variations of them little by little with whatever feels natural. Like, a kick or two there, and a hop there, and an actual turn there, and he’s _ dancing. _He’s surprised to find himself smiling the whole way and delighting when his and Tony’s eyes catch in shared grins. 

He’s almost disappointed when it’s time for them to leave, but as they exit the boat he finds that his feet are sore and that after all that walking throughout the day he's pretty beat, especially with all that dancing. Outside, Evan brightly tells Tony, "That was really fun! Thanks--" he gets interrupted when both their eyes get drawn to a couple who approach them---Evan recognizes them as the other two performers Tony was playing with at the club. If he remembers their names correctly, Coco and Z both looked flushed and animated from the activity of the club. Coco has a wide beaming smile and Z's eyes sparkle with life. Tony's grin bursts like a firework to see them and says, "Hey guys!"

Coco gives a friendly wave and says, “_Ciao!" _ He looks at Evan, "_Sono_ _Coco. Siete Tony’s nuovo amico?”_

Evan awkwardly smiles and says, “Um...I don’t---”

Z looks at him with understanding and turns to Coco. She tells him something in Italian and he nods likely explain that he doesn’t speak English, and then she turns to Evan and says, “I’m Z, and this is my boyfriend Coco. He doesn’t speak English.”

Coco gives him a slightly embarrassed look and says, "I speak English very little. Sorry."

"That's ok, I'm in your country and I don't know Italian at all, so _I'm _sorry about that," Evan discreetly wipes his hands on his jeans in case there is sweat and then he shakes their hands, “I’m Evan. It’s nice to meet you both. I really enjoyed your performance last night.” 

They thank him and then as they start heading towards to their place Evan asks them, “How long have you been performing together?” 

Tony shrugs, “A year or two?”

Z affirms, “Two years.”

The night is slightly cooler but it feels nice after all that time dancing, "So, we're heading to your place right now?" Evan asks. 

"Yeah, I'm going to cook!" Coco says excitedly.

Z fondly takes his hand and explains, "He likes cooking for his friends; it's his thing."

Coco's energy is contagious and Evan excitedly says, "I look forward to it!"

So, he and Tony trail behind Z and Coco, who walk with arms wrapped around their waists and paint a sweet couple on the streets of Rome. It looks very picturesque looking at them and the way they obviously inhabit a special bubble of affection. He and Tony spend the rest of the walk in a comfortable silence only intermittently broken for when Tony points something out for Evan to see.

Eventually Evan finds himself sitting in Z and Coco’s living room with Z and Tony as Coco tinkers away in the kitchen. On the long, well-worn coffee table in front of them is a platter of bruschetta. He doesn’t much like tomato, and it would be rude to not at least have one of the appetizers, so as he bites into it he finds that it’s actually much better than he expected. Evan ends up nearly scarfing down the whole thing before reaching for another. It’s either really, really good or he’s much hungrier than he thought he was after dancing. 

The little bohemian home is snug and warm. Not warm temperature wise but in the feeling of comfort. It's filled with color and interesting little trinkets. There are many potted pants happily lining the walls in homemade shelves and all of the windows are open to let in air. Even if there is ventilation, there is no mistaking the intoxicating smell of good food being cooked in the kitchen.

Z is quiet as he and Tony talk about nothing of consequence but Evan feels bad because it feels like she’s being left out. He’s always felt bad when he's felt like he’s being left out so he tries to get her to join in their conversation even if he does feel a little intimidated by her for some reason, “So---” Evan turns to her and pauses unsure about what to even say but it’s too late to back track, “So, how long have you been playing guitar?” He asks more awkwardly than he wanted to.

Z quietly regards him with her dark eyes and says, “A while.” 

“Since she was 8,” Tony supplies from Evan’s right. Z fiddles with her rings and says, “He’s correct.”

“Oh cool,” Evan swallows and searches for something to say, “I can’t play an instrument, although I had really wanted to when I was younger. I think I wanted to learn to play the piano or violin, you know, something a little quieter than something like a trumpet,” he chuckles nervously, “I told Tony that I wanted to learn guitar but felt that it was too late for that but he told me that it’s never too late to learn and I thought that was nice,” By not making eye-contact with Z his eyes fall to her fingers, “Woah, those nails are very long. Is it hard to play with them like that?” He looks up to find her looking at him with wide eyes. He adds, “They’re really pretty nails; violet is a pretty color.”

Z clears her throat and says, “Thank you, it’s not hard after some practice.”

“They don’t break?”

“No,” Z fiddles with her fingers in a way that’s almost shy, and then she holds them out so Evan can see, “I ask for them to be shaped this way because they work better than other shapes for playing guitar,” She drops her hands and then says, “I should go see if Coco needs help, excuse me.”

Evan turns to Tony once she’s gone and worriedly asks him, “I didn’t annoy her, did I?”

Tony looks at him fondly and says, “Far from it. She’s just quiet around new people.”

“I see,” they lean back on the couch and Tony fiddles on his phone while Evan stares out the window before getting up to get a better look outside. As he approaches it he glances towards the kitchen to find Z actually helping Coco with chopping what looks like garlic. Steam rises out of a pan in the stove and there are various sizzling sounds intermixed with faint music.

When Evan reaches the window, he sees that the streets are dark and quiet. The windows from the buildings across the street glow yellow and white. 

Absentmindedly he doesn’t turn to Tony when he asks, “Tony, what's your real name?”

Tony chokes, “What?” Evan actually turns because that was far more of a reaction than he expected. Tony gulps his glass of water down and rubs his throat looking pained.

Starting to grow concerned Evan says, “Tony is usually a nickname, right? Like short for Thomas or Anotonio or something.”

“Oh,” Tony's face relaxes into relief and something else, “The way you phrased it was---” He shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter. My name a nickname for something? No, it’s just Tony. It’s always been Tony.” 

There’s some weird energy hanging in the air and Evan can’t stop staring at Tony because the man suddenly looks different. He’s seeing him in a new light. He looks tired and a little haunted around the eyes---something that Evan hasn’t noticed---or hasn't been willing to realize until now. Evan hasn’t said anything so Tony says, “Now I’m curious, is Evan short for something?” And he smiles but it looks forced, and it makes Evan wonder how many of those other smiles were forced or masks. But he decides to drop it, at least for now, because Evan could very well be imagining it all. 

Evan humors him with a: “It’s not.” 

Tony smirks, “For all we know you could be...Evansen.”

“What if I told you it’s Evanator?” 

“Ah! Your cover’s blown, Evanator. Whatever shall you do now?”

“Eat another one of these,” Evan takes another bruschetta and curiously casts glances at Tony as he privately thinks about things he hasn't really been willing to consider. 

Dinner is not a quiet affair. Evan ends up learning a lot about Tony’s friends and the man himself.

They're in the middle of their second course and things are easy and fun between them all. Evan has significantly relaxed into something very bright and free-feeling. He feels very good with these people and finds he enjoys their company very much. They're all laughing at a story Coco tells them with the help of Tony as translator when Z says, "Coco here is just a straight up melting pot of the spices of the world,” she wiggles her fingers, “He’s a chef. Spices, cooking. You get it.” She murmurs a question to Coco and then translates his answer, “He's Italian, Mexican, Philippino, and Basque. I’m sure he’s forgetting one, oh yes, French! What have they not colonized?”

Z seems to have opened up as she brightly tells Evan, “I, on the other hand am purely Taiwanese. My parents were very proud of this,” She nods solemnly, “They told me I had to marry another Taiwanese person in order to carry the family lineage of purity," She rolls her eyes and then smirks, "A sex change and one Coco later they have forgotten about their expectations,” Evan gapes at her story and she adds, "We're on good terms now, though. It was a bit rocky at the start but they've come around."

Coco and Zephyr, for that is Z's full name, tell Evan of their story. He pictures it all in his head as they tell him. He imagines them as being slightly younger than they are now and meeting in the library where Z still works at. They library is big and dim and a young Coco walks into the library he haunts on a daily basis only to spot Z behind the reception desk. It was her first day on the job and Coco knew he had to get to know her better. 

Coco grabs her hand and she accepts it with a smile, "So, yes, we've been partners in crime ever since." Coco kisses her knuckles and Evan giggles into his hands, "You two are cute."

"_Grazie._"

Z blushes and mumbles a thank you as well.

The conversation chugs on until they even have desert. The topic about how Tony met the two of them is briefly touched upon but not further explored. All Evan ends up learning is that Tony knew Coco before Coco met Z. It's somewhat disappointing to not hear the full story that was clearly brushed over but Evan knows he just met these people so it's unreasonable to ask for what very well be a deeply personal story. 

After dinner, Coco offers Evan their couch to sleep on because it got very late in the night without their notice. He accepted because he was much too sleepy on delicious food and from his very active day to return to his hotel. Tony helps him set some light blankets and a pillow on the couch and Evan falls asleep with little to no fuss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the boat restaurant--it's called Baja Roma: https://www.romeing.it/baja-roma/  
I do not remember the title of the book Evan wrote. I am sorry if I'm wrong lol.  
Thanks for reading! I hope you are all doing well, I just want to say I appreciate each and every one of my readers---y'all are the best. Last week I asked you what your favorite food is, how about this time I ask what kind of magical power you would want and why? XD


	16. September 25th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the fateful day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check end notes for TW.
> 
> Ngl, this chapter really went thru the wringer. No scene in this chapter is exactly the way it was in the rough draft lol

_ Evan is flying. _

_The night is deep enough for the stars to swim within it like luminous jellyfish_._ The air is cool on his cheeks as he soars over a long, thin stretch of a road where a single car advances onward and ever towards the endless horizon. Evan quietly dives towards it. _

_ He settles into the passenger seat. His eyes catch his own in the driver's mirror and then that’s when his awareness leaves him and he gets sucked into the dream that is more memory than fantasy. _

_ Evan takes a breath and the cool air makes him feel like a real person. His head is clear and he takes in the sights of the dark country road swimming past his window like an especially ill-lit silent-film. The dials for the radio are all blurry and swirl around in a tangle of numbers and lights. It’s so strange being outside so late; he wonders what Connor wants to show him. _

_ It’s quiet in the car; Connor isn’t playing any music and it’s so unlike him that Evan almost wonders if anything is wrong. However, the silence is companionable and comfortable---almost safe. Connor keeps his eyes on the road even if there’s no one else on the road at this hour of the night. He seems to be deep in thought and, not for the first time, Evan wishes he could peek inside his head for just a couple of seconds to see what he’s thinking about. Evan rests his head against the cool window and closes his eyes. _

_ When he opens his eyes again they are outside and back at the Apple Orchard. The silence is different out in the open air; it’s more boundless and secret. Connor has a flashlight and they stand at the base of a tall tree that towers above them in a messy tangle of branches and leaves. Connor taps the trunk of the tree with his flashlight and says, “You first.” _

_ “What?” Evan disbelieving whispers---for some reason the darkness of the forest makes him want to whisper. It kind of creeps him out because it feels like something could be watching them amidst the shadows. _

_ “You climb first and I’ll go after. I gotta light the way up for you,” Connor explains in his normal tone of voice as if they are having a regular conversation about the weather and not at all talking about climbing a tree at 5a.m. in the morning with only flashlights to see by. _

_ Usually Evan is up for whatever Connor suggests; heck, he even agreed to waking up at 4 a.m. so that Connor could pick him up and bring him to the Apple Orchard for whatever reason. But, climbing this tree is not something he’s really willing to do, “I don’t know; I don’t think I can do it…” _

_ “You’ve climbed trees before,” Connor states it like it’s a fact---because it is. _

_ “Not in the dark,” Evan says, although that’s the least of his issues with this situation. _

_ “I have a flashlight.” _

_ “I know.” _

_ Connor checks the time on his phone and furrows his brow. Evan can tell he’s trying to call upon his patience as he says, “If we don’t start climbing, we’re gonna miss it.” _

_ “The sunrise?” _

_ Connor nods and urgently says, “Yeah, it’s going to be rising any minute now. Let’s climb." _

_ Evan looks back up at the tree and it feels like its glaring down at him. He flashes back to early that summer when his hands let go of the highest branch of a tree much like this one. Evan's stomach falls just with the memory of it and he nauseously shakes his head, “I can’t.” _

_“Why not?” Sometimes Connor doesn’t leave things alone..._

_ “I just _ can’t,” _ Evan snaps and then regrets it when he sees the shocked look on Connor’s face, “Sorry.” _

_ “Are you ok?” _

_“Yeah, I'm fine,” Evan rubs his forehead. There's a painful headache starting to gnaw its way through his skull and he feels his shoulders starting to crawl their way up to his ears. _

It’s just I’m remembering when I fell and how I didn’t actually fall but I let go. Can you believe that? I let go because I was hoping I’d die. But then I didn’t and I ended up with a broken bone but I guess, in a way, it was worth it because I ended up meeting you. The thing is, I don’t much like climbing trees anymore. So, can we not climb this tree please? I’d very much appreciate it, thanks. 

_"Ev--" Connor lightly touches his shoulder and Evan jerks away. _

_Evan inhales sharply; he didn't mean to do that. When he looks at Connor he finds him holding his hand to himself as if he'd been burned. Hurt shines in his eyes for a second and then disappears just as soon as Evan recognizes it. Evan's brows knit apologetically and he says, "Sorry, I-I didn't mean to do that."_

_Connor's ducks his head and then he slides down to the ground and sits against the tree dejectedly._ _“This was stupid,” Connor mumbles. _

_“No it wasn’t---” _

_ Connor turns off his flashlight and quietly stares at the ground between his feet. _

_Evan stares at him and kicks himself. He repeats, "I'm sorry, I didn't meant to do that." When Connor doesn't say anything, _ _Evan's thoughts race and he asks, "Can we get out of these trees so we can see the sunrise from the meadow perhaps?"_

_Connor shrugs._

_Evan carefully sits beside him and sighs. He leaves his flashlight on and swivels it around them. The light glances off the trunks of the surrounding trees and Evan thinks he can hear birds singing from very far away. When he looks up he sees that the sky is warming into a deep deep ocean blue. He spins the flashlight around again and then quietly admits, "I keep thinking we're going to get murdered."_

_Connor snorts._

_"I'm just a very nervous individual, you know that right? And being out here in the dark doesn't exactly help."_

_Connor nods his head a bit and says, "I'm sorry I brought you out here..."_

_"It's alright. I think it would've been a nice idea to see the sunrise from a treetop. That is, if we didn't have to climb a tree in the dark."_

_Evan hears more than sees Connor smiling as he says, "Didn't think that far to be honest..."_

_They chuckle softly and then _ _linger in silence. _

_Perhaps its the tranquility of the early morning and the darkness that awakens some part of himself that wants to be honest with Connor. He's never really shared anything deeply personal about himself to anybody. Sure, Jared knows him very well but that's only because of the amount of time they've known each other. Evan has never made a friend and experienced the need to suddenly open himself up to them on an emotional and personal level. He didn't think that he would ever even make a friend that he felt he could do that with. Those kinds of close friendships only ever seemed to exist in TV and movies and books, but he's always wanted that kind of closeness with someone. And here he has Connor, the closest friend he has ever made himself. _

_So, the words rush out of him like ripping off a band-aid "_ _I didn’t want to climb because it scares me." Evan's heart races in his throat and he rolls the flashlight around in his hands for something to do as he continues, “I used to like climbing trees, I really did. It was something I used to be good at and I liked that I was good at it. I would’ve liked to have climbed this tree with you just now. I’m sure it would’ve been very nice to see the sunrise from up there. But, I can’t climb trees anymore," He turns to Connor and finds him already looking at him, "Do you remember that day you found me?” It's now or nothing, Evan looks away and says, "I didn’t fall." _

_ Connor gives a deeply confused, “What?" _

_For a moment, Evan considers backing out of telling him this. He could lie and make up some excuse. But, no. He wants to tell him. Swallowing past his trepidation he says so quietly he's not even sure Connor hears: “I let go."_

_ Connor’s eyes widen in shock and realization. He looks away very briefly before turning back to Evan with the same surprised expression, "I'm sorry, what?"_

_"I let go," Evan firmly presses his mouth together; he's decided that that's the last time he's going to say it. _

_Connor incredulously asks, "Why would you do that?" He rubs his mouth in thought and says, "_ _That’s---That’s---” _

_"Stupid?" Evan offers. _

_"Suicidal..."_

_"Yeah."_

_The silence that spreads between them is like a whole other person sitting between them. It's laden with a mix of shock from Connor and apprehension from Evan. Evan glances at Connor and finds that h_is eyes are wide and searching and upset._ _ _“Why would you do that?” _

_ Evan isn’t sure if he even has a simple answer for that but he surprises himself when he simply says, “I wasn’t...Happy.” _

_Connor emptily echoes, “You weren’t happy." The words sound so simple and ordinary that Evan’s reasoning seems absurd. But, it was the simplest way to surmise everything that pushed him to that tree. They silently hold eye contact, a whole slew of emotions rumbling tumultuously inside them, and then Evan breaks it to look at the canopy of leaves above him. There is just a little more light than before as the sky has flushed into a dreamy violet. Blinking up at the puzzle of leaves above him he feels a couple of tears edging his eyes and he blinks them away. A sadness pools in his gut from remembering what he was up to that summer day that seems oh so long ago. He's surprised when he feels Connor envelope him in a hug and say, "I'm sorry." Evan can't speak due to the pillar of heartache in his throat._

_The hug itself is a little awkward since Connor is kneeling beside him and has Evan pulled towards him, but the gesture is nicer than Evan ever would've expected. Connor's arms are warm around him and Evan keeps staring up at the canopy of trees with his head propped on Connor's firm shoulder. It seems like the little pool of sadness he had felt vaporized the second he received Connor's hug. Instead, Evan's heart races spectacularly fast as if to remind him that he's alive._

_When Evan is about raise his arms and complete the hug, Connor pulls away and stares at him for a second with an unreadable look. Evan's breath hitches when Connor brings a hand up to briefly brush Evan's cheek with the tips of his fingers before he too pulls that away and stands up. Dumbstruck and still feeling the ghost of Connor's fingertips on his cheek, Evan looks up at Connor. Connor silently offers him a hand and Evan accepts it. _

_******_

September 15

_Today I saw Tony’s drawings. They were really neat! He does watercolors of nature scenes clashing with geometric shapes---I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like them. I'm going out on my own today. My tour guide had to go take some photos for a job this week. But, we're planning on meeting up sometime from now. _

*

*

*

September 24th

_I’m going to meet up with Tony tomorrow. _

_Tomorrow is the 25th...I've been disappointed so many times in the past and for no real reason. How can a red slip of paper predict what my so called Essential Day will be? _

*

*

*

September 25th

“I’m just gonna go over there and try to get a couple shots of the sunset. You’ll be fine here?”

Evan nods, "Sure," and leans back on his elbows feeling very relaxed despite all the thoughts that run through him. He lazily watches Tony rise to a stand and walk away, little puffs of sand bloom beneath his feet as he goes. Evan shifts his attention between the sky and Tony; going back and forth like the lapping of the waves. The sand is warm and rough beneath him and Evan’s bones feel tired from all the walking they did that day. 

The sunset is an orange candle that warms Positano's evening sky into something lovely. There isn’t much of a crowd due to the late hour but the beach isn't so empty that it's devoid of people. The lights of the buildings on the mountainside are beginning to flicker on and it vaguely reminds Evan of a dream he had long ago. The events of it aren’t that clear except for the memory of a red slip of paper in the water. 

Tony met Evan here earlier that day so they could begin their journey in the morning. During the day, Evan trailed after Tony as the man took photographs of various sights that they came across. 

Through it all, something had been bothering Evan for the longest time. Even as he rests on the beach, something in the back of his mind whispers a series of thoughts he had been reluctant to explore too deeply. These thoughts mainly have to do with Tony and his freaky similarities to Connor. The more he gets to know the man, the more Evan starts to grow convinced that the two are one and the same. 

He just doesn’t know how to broach the subject. 

If Evan is wrong he doesn’t want to explain why he thought the man was his long lost friend and have pitying looks thrown at him after. He also doesn’t want to shoulder the burden of hurt and disappointment that he would most definitely feel if his suspicions were proven wrong.

But then...There is also the possibility that he’s _ right. _

He daren't even think about it. Even just entertaining the thoughts for too long are dangerous.

When Tony returns the sun has fully set and the night sky stretches enchantingly above the city. Despite the late hour, it’s still warm and Evan rests flat on his back on the sand so he can enjoy the steady crashing of the waves. Evan watches Tony as the man sinks down onto the sand and pulls his knees to his chest. Tony places Sylvia back in her camera case and sets her delicately to his side. He says, “I got some good shots.”

“That’s good.”

Tony hums and then stares at the ocean pensively. A couple minutes of silence pass between them before Evan sits up. He feels a spark of apprehension worm inside him before he clears his throat and says, "Can I ask you something?”

Tony doesn't take his eyes off the water but he does turn his face a little towards Evan, “Yeah, what’s up?”

Evan opens his mouth to say the thing that he's been dying to say all day but he finds that the words won't come out. It kind of helps that Tony is not looking at him but his gut feels queasy anyhow. Evan crosses his feet in front of him and leans forward so he can look at the dark ocean and not at all at the man beside him as he says, “I think I know you…”

“Hm?"

Tony fully looks at him then but Evan doesn't glance at him to see his expression. Even so, it’s obvious Tony has no idea what Evan is talking about. Evan digs his fingers in the sand and says, “I’m sorry if I'm wrong, but..." Evan takes a deep breath and then hastily says, "I don’t think you're Tony.”

Tony nervously laughs, “Um, what?”

“I think---I think you are---” Evan swallows deeply and feels his gut flutter as he turns to Tony and says, “Connor?”

Tony worriedly looks at him, “Are you ok? Were we in the sun for too long? Are you dehydrated? Let’s go---"

Evan kneels in front of him, shocking Tony as he peers deeply into his face. Evan squints his eyes in the barely illuminated night and somehow he sees more than he ever had than when they'd been in the sun. He relies on his memories of the time he's spent with "Tony" and he just _knows_ it’s him---it's Connor. The way they both do art, the way they both like music, the way Evan feels so at ease with them---him. _How could I have been so blind? _

Evan beams, “Connor, it’s you.” He pulls him into a deep hug and chokes on a watery laugh. Connor stiffens in his arms but Evan hardly notices that as he keeps saying, "It's you, it's you, it's you..." The force of Evan's smile hurts and tastes salty from his tears. He's so _happy_. "I can't believe it," Evan pulls away and rubs at his eyes as he says, "It's you, right?" 

Tony looks back at him with an unreadable expression. An inkling of fear knots his gut when he thinks that maybe Tony isn't Connor at all. But, Tony's own face looks vaguely wet either from his own tears or Evan's.

As if breaking out of shock, Tony quietly says, "Hi, Evan," He lifts the corner of his mouth very slightly and his eyes shine brighter than they had before, "It's been a long time."

"Oh my God," Evan laughs again and covers his face as he chokes up. This time, Connor pulls Evan into a hug and they cradle each other on the sands of the beach for a long, long time. Neither of them saying anything. 

Evan breathes in the ocean air and Connor. He hooks his chin over Connor's shoulder and clutches his shirt hard. Nothing can ever pull this man away from his again. If the tides washed up to them and tried to pry them away, they would fail---Evan isn't letting go ever again. He doesn't think his heart has ever beat so fast in his life. It's like it's trying to jump out of his chest and into Connor's because they never should've been separated in the first place. Evan whispers, "Why did you leave?"

Connor doesn't say anything. His hand makes a whispering sound on the fabric of Evan's shirt as he rubs soothing circles on his trembling back. It's not quite the answer Evan wanted but it will have to do for now. From what Evan can tell, it means: Not now, I'll tell you later. 

When they pull away from the hug, Evan instantly feels cold. Connor quietly stands up and offers Evan a hand up. Close together, they slowly start walking away from the beach; their arms brush every other second and Evan can't seem to stop smiling. 

With no real purpose, Evan says, “Connor?” Evan can’t seem to stop saying it. All these years, Evan has avoided using Connor's name if he could help it. But here he is, using it and feeling his heart break apart and come together each time he says his name. _Connor Connor Connor Connor_. 

Connor takes a long time before responding, "It's weird to hear that name."

Evan briefly panics and turns to him, "Should I not use it?"

"No, yes...I don't know," Connor looks conflicted and stares down at the ground.

"I can call you Tony if you like?" Secretly, Evan hopes Connor doesn't ask him to do that.

"No, you don't have to do that. Seems kind of pointless at this point."

"Ok," Evan worries at his lip before asking, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Connor thoughtfully says, "In all honesty, I don't know..." He furrows his brows and says, "It just seemed like a good idea at the time. I thought--" He pauses and then awkwardly says, "I just thought we could’ve kept doing that until you had to leave. I could've kept pretending to be someone else. You know, your friend from Italy that’s been showing you around? And then, you'd leave and...I don't know," Evan's eyes widened through that whole admittance and he brought a hand up to his forehead in an effort to somehow understand what Connor just said. 

Evan gasps, “You wanted me to leave without telling me who you actually were?” Connor reels back somewhat from Evan's shock and upset, “I’ll admit, you had me going that first time we hung out. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me so I ignored my suspicions. But there was always _ something _that was off, something that just always brought me back to you,” Evan tries to steady his breathing and grounds himself with the feeling of the waves washing up by his feet. He looks back at Connor and searches his face, "Why didn't you want to tell me?"

Somewhat guiltily, Connor says, "It was easier."

"What was?"

Evan watches as Connor's face falls into tiredness, "I don't want to talk about this now..." His shoulders hang down in defeat and he looks far older than his age at that moment.

Evan tentatively reaches out to touch his shoulder and he says, "It's ok." Looking at his friend, Evan sees that he clearly looks far more stressed and beaten down than he did when he was pretending to be Tony. 

Connor doesn't quite smile but his eyes are fond as he touches the hand Evan has on his shoulder and says, "Thank you."

*******

Sitting in a restaurant that Connor led them to, Evan studies him. Connor sits with his head propped on his hand and stares out the restaurant window. Since walking away from the beach, it appears that he's fallen into a pit of deep thoughtfulness and melancholia. Every blink of his eye and twitch of his jaw is achingly familiar. Connor quietly sits before him and Evan doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful.

Evan’s knee nervously hops under the table and right when he's trying to force it to stop he accidentally bumps his foot into Connor’s own. Connor jumps and looks at him in surprise. Evan cringes and says, “Sorry,” but then Connor tentatively taps Evan's shoe with his own. Evan ducks his head down with a little surprised smile and taps Connor’s shoe again. They silently play footie under the table until their appetizers arrive.

When the food does arrive, they quickly pick it all off from the platter in an unexpected fit of hunger. Evan is about to comment on the food when he hears his phone buzz on the table with a new notification. Evan glances at Connor who pretends to be occupied with the menu but glances at Evan's phone anyway. Evan taps his phone and checks the message.

**Jared: hey I just got to Rome now. Cue the gladiators**

**Ur in Positano right?**

_Evan: That’s great! _

Evan freezes mid-sigh. He can’t believe he actually felt disappointed by the fact that Jared finally announced his arrival. Excusing those thoughts as being born from dehydration, Evan takes a sip of water and then texts: _Yeah_

**Jared: Cool**

**Omg**

**It’s going to take me awhile to get there**

_Evan: We can meet halfway?_

**Jared: Nah, u stay there. I’ll be there tomorrow**

_Evan: Ok, can’t wait!_

**Jared: same :)**

Evan puts his phone face flat on the table and blankly blinks at the table. He feels like he's aged several decades. There's something weird twisting in his gut and it feels a lot like guilt but he's not sure why. He looks at Connor and finds him staring back at him with curious eyes. He simply says, “Jared?”

_ Oh, yeah, he knows about that doesn’t he? _

Evan nods. 

Connor plays with his fork and asks, “Everything ok?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you two are an item now, right?”

Evan hides a frown behind a cup of water. His mouth tastes bitter all of a sudden, “Yup.”

Evan hates the thought of it, but he actually feels a little bit of dread at seeing Jared again. It's an awful thing for him to feel but the queasiness in his gut is unmistakable. Evan finds himself frowning as he think about how Jared's return will signal the return to "normal." Evan's mind suddenly flashes to when they are back home, together again, and living their lives as they had been before the trip happened. Those thoughts unsettle him deeply and he's not sure what his current emotions mean for their relationship.

Crumbling everything he's thinking about into a ball and shoving it way into the back of his head, Evan looks back out the window and blinks at the ocean view. For now, he just wants to enjoy this time with Connor, “You know, I’ve been having dreams of this place?”

“Oh?” Connor looks briefly surprised at the topic change.

“Yeah, silly dreams where I’m flying. In one of my dreams I was riding a bicycle in the sky.”

“Hah, like E.T.?”

“I guess,” Evan relaxes in his chair, “I’ve never actually seen that movie.”

Connor raises his brows, “Really?” 

Evan smiles; he anticipated that reaction, “Yeah, only bits and pieces.”

“It’s a classic. You should see it."

“I’ll try."

Through dinner they talk about everything and nothing. In some ways, it’s kind of miraculous that they don’t stumble onto the topic of Connor’s 5 year disappearing act nor even of Evan’s relationship. But, Evan doesn't find that he minds too deeply. That doesn't mean he wouldn't welcome any explanations Connor could give him about why he ran away and what he's been doing all this time. But, Evan is willing to wait because Connor told him that he wasn't ready to talk about it yet.

******

After dinner, they went to Evan's hotel room since neither of them were willing to leave the other too soon. The two of them sit on Evan’s bed with their backs propped against the headboard and they keep the ball rolling with their inane conversation from dinner. However, something heavy lies beneath it all due to all of the things that are being left unsaid. Partly as a result of that, Evan ends up being a bit more candid with his own life and what he’s been doing.

"Environmental science major, huh? Can't say I'm surprised."

"Yeah, I mean it's _me _we're talking about."

Connor laughs, "Sure. What can you do with that degree?"

Evan nonchalantly says, "A lot of things; boring things to talk about, really." 

"Boring?"

"No, but when I---" Evan tries to jokingly say, "When I try to talk about it with others they get bored."

Connor looks at him a little sadly, "Oh, that sucks."

"It's ok, I just learned it's better to _not_ talk about it."

Connor gently says, "You can tell me about it."

Evan feels a blush tickle his cheeks, "I don't want to bore you."

"It's something you like to do, right?"

"Yeah, I love it."

"Then tell me," Connor excitedly crosses his legs criss-cross apple-sauce and shuffles around on the bed so he can face Evan like an eager student.

Evan laughs behind his hand and feels warmed by Connor's smile, "Really?"

"Yeah, educate me maestro."

"Well, ok..." Evan tells him about his work in the laboratory and some of the sample collecting trips he's taken to various forests. Connor listens attentively to him and Evan doesn't get the impression that he's boring him. He's even paused a couple times to ask him if he should talk about something else but Connor insisted that he wasn't getting bored. Through it all, Evan ended up digging up stories from his time in University, his time as an intern, and various stories from his job. He's never thought he was particularly funny but some of his stories are unintentionally funny and make Connor laugh. The one time Evan mentions Zoe, Connor pales so much that Evan panics because it looks like he's going to pass out.

"Are you ok?!"

Connor inhales deeply and presses a hand to his chest. On a shaky exhale he says, "Yeah, I'm fine. You just caught me by surprise."

"No, _I'm_ sorry. I didn't know..."

Connor shakes his head and rubs his eyes hard, "It's alright."

Evan worriedly looks at Connor and chews on his thumbnail. He really didn't mean to surprise him like that. He didn't know that Connor would be sensitive to hearing Zoe's name.

Noticing Evan's worry, Connor sighs deeply and says, “I’m sorry, Evan,” he hangs his head, “This probably isn’t what you would’ve wanted.”

Evan looks at him with surprise, “What do you mean?”

“I know you want to ask me about what happened and stuff, but---” Connor nervously runs a hand through his hair, “I’m not ready yet.”

Evan nods and then frowns into his lap, “I should be the one saying sorry.”

Now it's Connor's turn to look confused, “What for?" 

Something Evan has been dying to say ever since Connor disappeared rises within him. The words feel so monumental and big he doesn’t think he’ll even be able to say them at all. Almost as if he's detached from himself he says, “I didn’t see what was happening.”

Connor's eyes widen, “Wait...You know?"

"Zo--your sister, she told me some of it."

Connor's breath punches out of him like a deflated balloon, "Oh."

Evan looks at his friend now and a great tidal wave of anguish strikes him. Connor never should've had to have gone through that. Nobody should. It's just that Connor looks so small and scared and it hurts Evan like a knife to the chest. The grief churns inside him and makes him say, "I'm sorry that happened to you. I'm sorry I didn't see what was happening and I'm sorry I didn't help," Evan cries into his hands. Delayed shock from the evening and all of the pain from the last few years rush out of him and pool into his hands. He hiccups for breath and feels surprised when he feels a hand tentatively reach around his back and pull him into a hug. If possible, Evan cries even harder into Connor’s shoulder and holds him tight. 

Connor cradles the back of his head and softly says, "Oh, Evan. That wasn’t your responsibility.” His voice sounded sad with remorse. 

Evan squeezes his eyes shut. Distantly, he feels ridiculous for crying so much but it's like he's possessed with all his pent-up emotions from the last few years. Apparently, they were just begging to come out. 

“Seriously,” Connor starts to sound panicked about seeing Evan like this, “That wasn’t for you to see. I tried really hard to hide it all.”

Evan can't speak and when he gets enough air to be able to do so he croaks, “I really missed you.”

With difficulty, Connor says, “I missed you too.” He’s crying too, Evan can feel the evidence of it on the top of his head.

Eventually Evan’s tears subside and he clings to Connor tightly as he stares past his shoulder and out through the window. Once again, Connor runs soothing circles on Evan’s back and Evan wishes they could stay like that forever. The hotel room is small and quaint. Lights sparkle from outside the window but they are as insubstantial as spirits. For all Evan knows, it's only him and Connor in the whole universe. They hug each other through a heavy silence; neither of them willing to pull away first. 

When he senses that Connor might pull away he whispers, “Connor…”

Connor doesn’t say anything but the circles on Evan’s back slow to a stop. Evan is suddenly very aware of the warm weight of Connor's hand on his back. The quietness of the room is very heavy and glaringly obvious. As they pull away just enough to look at each other, something passes between their eyes. And for a second, Evan thinks he's sees fireworks before he pulls Connor in for a kiss. His lips are dry and slightly chapped but they're _Connor's_ therefore they are perfect. Connor sucks in a surprised breath and tries to say, “Bu-” but Evan quiets him by tugging him closer. His head is empty. He’s not in Italy anymore. He’s under a pile of blankets with the aftertaste of poptart in his mouth. He’s back in a memory where Connor started something they didn’t finish. It’s like time ended when Connor left and now it’s finally returned. Connor kisses Evan back just as ardently and it’s like they both are coming alive after a five year coma. 

Connor sinks into his arms and Evan's mind goes blank. There's no one else in the world but them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Beginning portion of chapter has a discussion of Evan's past suicide attempt. If you would like to skip it don't read the italics.
> 
> HEAD EMPTY NO THOUGHTS---also, there was a lot of hugging this chapter, wasn't there? lmao XD (and crying....OOF) Should I tag that????? hahaha
> 
> NEW QUESTION: In your opinion, what's the closest thing to real magic? For me, I think it's BREAD (freshly baked bread).
> 
> Thanks for reading!! idk how much more of this story we have but I think we are nearing the end *cries*


	17. Crushed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha....aaahhh y'all are gonna hate me
> 
> Sorry for any errors, my proofreading skills left me on read for five years.

When Evan wakes up in the morning, Connor is gone.

Everything narrows down to the spot in the bed that is distinctly Connor-less. It doesn't even look like there was anyone there; the sheets are pulled up to the pillow and the room is terribly quiet. The knowledge that Evan has been abandoned again crashes into him like a steam engine. A panic attack swoops in and when that falls away, all Evan is left with is devastating disappointment. He expected better of Connor. Especially after last night...

_Evan and Connor pulled away from the kiss that seemed to last an eternity. _

_They whispered meaningless and soft things at each other. Most of which neither of them heard or fully understood. When Evan was slipping into sleep with his arms held firmly around Connor he whispered one thing that he remembers most clearly: "Stay."_

_Connor nestled deeper into Evan's_ hug_ and said, "I will."_

With that memory, Evan sees red. _How could Connor leave? _Evan is not a man who is prone to anger, but his blood burns hot with it. He's angry for a long long time before it dies down and gives way for aching disappointment. The disappointment sits in his gut like an empty void. How could he leave?

******

Evan spends the whole morning in his hotel room either trying trying to contact him or trying not to think of him. It doesn't help that the man won't answer. Each time he calls him the messages go to voicemail and each time he texts him he gets no response. At the moment, Evan really _hates _him. 

A couple of hours pass in which Evan is pulled tight with anger and then compressed into a deep void of sadness. He paces the room and lays on the bed for great intervals of time like his own little hurricane of pain. Evan wants to pack up everything and go and find him himself. He knows where Connor's been living and he could very easily hurtle towards Rome where he could unleash his anger at the other man; he would run up to Connor and unburden all of his is thoughts are great and conflicting and messy and tell him, "You reopened my wound, how could you do that?" The pain of being left behind again is raw and terrible and Evan wants to break everything in sight and collapse into a little ball amidst the rubble. His anxiety is screaming at him to go and find Connor immediately before the man disappears into the air again like a ghost. But the part of him that's been wounded tells him to close the book on Connor and kick it into the void, never to be thought of again. 

Not only is he hurt by Connor, but there's a healthy dose of guilt mixed into his mess of emotions at the moment. Even if he and Connor didn't do anything besides kiss---that still means he betrayed Jared. The thought of it eats Evan up from the inside and he dearly wishes he could jump to the past when everything wasn't so complicated. Not only jump to before he and Connor kissed for the second time in their lives but all the way back to when he and Connor were hanging out in the summertime and everything was okay. But, everything _wasn't_ okay and if Evan could go back with what he knows now he would do everything in his power to help Connor and his family and make him _stay. _

Evan's guilt forces him to crawl out of his pit of self-pity and think about what he should do. The responsible thing he could do is be honest with Jared, but he's not sure just _how_ honest he should be. Should he tell him that he's been with Connor? Would Jared even believe him? Or would he think that Evan went on a bender and hallucinated Connor. Evan knows he should be honest but he really really doesn't want to because if he tells him what happened then their relationship is definietly not going to survive this at all. It's already precarious enough as it is and Evan was planning on proposing for God's sake! 

Hours pass for Evan as he’s in this state and when he hears the knock of the door Evan considers shooting himself out of the window. But, after a moment of hesitation Evan opens it. 

“Heeeyy, or should I say_ ciaaooo_,” Jared grins at Evan and slips into the room. Evan stares at him for more than one reason. He stares at him because his guilt has rendered him defenseless and also because Jared looks different. That much is immediately obvious. He has a deeper tan than when Evan last saw him and his face glows with all the sun that he had obviously been basking in in Spain. Evan furrows his brows and can’t place just what has changed about him. Jared is oblivious to Evan’s scrutiny as he sits on the floor to slide his big backpack off. He runs a dialogue as he does so and happily chatters on about something that Evan can’t hear due to the ringing in his ears. 

“I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to drink out of that fountain so I was like---hey, are you ok?” Jared blinks at Evan and wipes his glasses on his shirt before putting them back on to study Evan, “You look really pale. What kind of sunblock have you been using? SPF 2000?” Jared smirks at his own-joke and stands back up. 

Evan realizes what it is that’s different. He looks happy. It seems like that time away really benefited him. Jared's smile falls and he looks at Evan with with concern, "Are you ok? You're not sick, are you?" Jared bends down to inspect his face, "Have you been _crying?_"

Evan defensively turns his face away, "What! No..." When it looks like Jared doesn't believe him, Evan shakes his head and clears the ringing in his ears, "I'm---I'm ok, I'm just tired."

"Didn't sleep well? Missed me that much?"

Evan just stares at him and responds too late, "Yeah."

Jared grumbles, "No need to sound so excited about it."

Thankfully, Evan's stomach decides that now is the perfect time to grumble and Evan touches his throbbing headache as he says, "I think I'm just hungry. I didn't get any breakfast."

That answer seems to appease Jared somewhat and he smiles again, "Dude, why didn't you get something? Anyways, no need to fast anymore, I'm here now," Jared pulls Evan up and starts tugging him out of the room, "C'mon, let's go get our chow down."

Evan allows himself to be pulled along for a couple of steps due to the shock of being confronted with this new Jared. Whatever happened to Jared while he was away changed him, made him freer, happier, and Evan's guilt can't allow him to go along with any of this any longer. Evan slips his hand out of Jared's and he wearily watches as Jared turns around to look at him inquisitively, "Evan?"

Evan stands there and has the confession on the tip of the tongue but swallows it down with great difficulty, "Nothing, let's go." He starts walking again and then remembers to take Jared's hand again, but Jared moves away and crosses his arms, "Okay, I think there's something wrong. What is it?"

"There's nothing wrong!"

"You're being all weird and I want to know why."

"How am I being weird?"

"I don't know!" Jared waves his hands and says, "You're being all morose and woe-is-me, right now."

Evan hangs his head, "I see, I'm sorry."

They hang in silence for a couple of seconds before Jared dubiously asks, "Is there really nothing wrong?"

Evan's breathing starts to pick up, “Yeah, actually, there is,” Evan swallows passed all the things that are telling him to lie, lie, lie, lie and he gives him what he's owed---the truth, “Jared, I'm sorry but I cheated. I found Connor and we kissed," Evan forces himself to not turn away from shame and to accept the full brunt of shock on Jared's face. 

He's surprised when Jared bursts into nervous laughter as he says, "Whaaaaat? Are you joking, Evan? Because it's not funny..."

Evan looks at him sadly, "No, it's true."

Jared's face pales by several degrees and his face completely falls, "You're serious?"

Evan nods, "I'm sorry."

Jared breaks their terrible eye contact and starts tugging his hair, "How--what---_what?!"_

Evan reaches for him, "I'm---" But Jared jerks away and says, “What the _fuck_, Evan?” He's glaring at him; hurt and betrayal shine in his eyes like knife points.

Slightly hysterical Evan says, “I’m sorry, I found him but I didn't know it was him, I mean, I kind of did but I also didn't and---"

Jared shouts, "Shut up!" Anger colors his face a furious red, "I'm so confused. I thought he was _dead_. How the Hell did he---how did you guys---" Jared trails away and he whispers to the floor, “What the Hell??” He collapses into a heavy seated position on the edge of the bed and looks for all the world like gravity is pulling him down. He repeats that question over and over again in various different ways, each of them sounding more broken than the last. 

Evan feels small when he asks, “Jared?” He awkwardly waits for Jared to speak again. The seconds tick by and they each feel heavy with the disappointment and betrayal that hangs in the air of the small room. 

Jared launches back up and points at Evan, "_What's wrong with you? _He comes back and you what? Jump back into his arms? What the actual _fuck_? He ran away for five years and you're ready to hold hands and skip through flower fields?!" Jared swings his head around as if looking for Connor, "And where is he now? Did he run away again?" Jared sneers at Evan's expression, "He _did, _didn't he?"

Evan whispers in a broken voice, "Yes."

Jared deeply frowns and narrows his eyes, "You're pathetic."

The look in Jared's eyes is terrible and breaks the part of Evan that were, up to that point, untouched.

Jared spins on his heel and stalks towards the door darkly muttering, “I need to get out of here," he aggressively puts his backpack on and the sight of it spurs Evan into action, "Jared, wait!"

Jared opens the door, "What for? There's nothing for me here." He walks out and doesn't turn around. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so I thought I would update next weekend but then it turns out I was lying to myself. Anyways....Sorry..............................let me repeat that, I'M SORRY!!!


	18. Faraway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes people drift apart, like ships on the ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost at 1000 hits...That's kinda wack 0 . o Not that I'm not grateful it's just...unexpected...
> 
> I edited this to the best of my abilities (which is not much to speak of).

After Jared left, Evan spent the following days in Positano aimlessly roaming around the city. He's been trying to contact Jared but he’s unreachable. Evan knows that they are likely going to be sitting next to each other in the plane unless Jared pays for an earlier return home or asks to exchange seats with someone else. The thought of seeing him again in person, especially in the plane where they would be sitting next to each other for hours upon hours is more than mildly terrifying. 

As he roamed, Evan register anything that he saw because the sights hardly took precedence in his mind and thoughts. All he could think about was how suddenly his life flipped. Sometimes it really did feel like Evan was awake for the first time in many years. Something within him changed and felt more alive, as if the sunlight were finally starting to touch the deepest parts of himself that he'd kept dormant. Connor may have left again, but now Evan is acutely aware that Connor is somewhere out there, alive, and very close. Evan has one more week until he returns to San Francisco and he needs to see him again before he goes. 

******

Evan doesn’t quite remember where Z and Coco’s place but he retraces his steps from the Tiber river and the walk that they took to their home until he happens upon it once more. 

When Z opens the door she’s pleasantly surprised to see Evan and says, “Hey, Evan. It’s nice to see you again. What brings you here?”

“Hi Z,” Evan sneaks a look behind her and then somewhat shyly asks, “Is Con--I mean, Tony around?”

Z’s smile falls somewhat “I’m sorry, um---he hasn’t been back for a couple of days.”

Evan’s gut drops, “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I think you better come inside.”

When Evan is situated on the couch Z joins him and awkwardly says, “He does this sometimes---just leaves. I’m sorry you missed him.”

He doesn’t understand. Evan’s heart refuses to calm down, “Do you mean he’s, like, packed up his things and _ left _?”

Z’s eyes widen and she says, “Oh, no, nothing like that,” Evan feels marginally better but he’s still confused and concerned, “You see, Coco and I thought that he was with you and that he’d be returning home later,” The dots are beginning to connect in Evan’s head and they don't paint a pretty picture, “But, he came back earlier than expected and then left again. He didn’t mention when he’d come back,” She adds apologetically. 

Evan nods and blankly says, “I’m leaving in a couple of days…” He can't say he's not surprised by the fact that Connor has run away again, but _God_ does it hurt. 

Z looks sadly at him, “I’m sorry,” she says again. Evan smiles tightly to himself---that’s what it must be like for other people when they hear him apologize so much. 

“It’s ok,” Evan mumbles. He gets up and feels momentarily off-balanced. He feels the need to go somewhere but he’s not sure where. Just, walking will help clear his head and give him the opportunity to sort out his mess of emotions. “Thank you, Z. It--it was very nice to meet you and Coco. I think I’ll be going now.”

“You don’t want to stay for dinner?”

“No thank you, I appreciate the offer though,” Evan is making his way to the door when he suddenly thinks of something, “Actually, would you mind giving Connor--- I mean, Tony my information?” Evan neatly writes down his phone number and address.

He hands Z the note and is surprised to see the sympathy shining in her eyes. She says, “I’ll make sure to give it to him when he gets back.”

“Thanks…” Evan lingers by the door for a moment. He kind of hopes that Connor will appear from somewhere in the apartment or from down the hall. But, he doesn’t.

Evan leaves. 

******

Evan thought the plane ride home would be awkward if he had to sit next to Jared the entire time but it turns out that that wasn’t even an issue he should’ve been worrying about at all. For, when Evan walks up to his seat he sees a stranger sitting where Jared should’ve been. A lady sits there with a book in hand and she mindlessly flips the pages as Evan sinks into his seat and into his thoughts. He’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed. 

Evan wasn’t able to sleep very well those last days in Italy for a large number of reasons. One of them being the recurring nightmares of Connor leaving him again and again. He still can’t believe that the man disappeared before Evan could see him one last time before returning to the states. The unfairness of it wounds him deeply.

When he falls uneasily to sleep, he dreams. 

_ Evan is home; the house is quiet with emptiness. _

_ He looks through all the rooms because he’s trying to find something. There are more rooms than he can count but what he’s looking for has to be around---he just knows it. He remembers seeing it by a lamp or by a bed or on the floor. Somewhere, somewhere, somewhere. _

_ The hallway is all dark and all he can hear are the sounds of his searching footsteps. _

Evan jerks awake feeling unsettled and jittery. 

******

He’s not sure why he’s surprised to see Jared at the apartment---but he is. 

It seems like Jared is in a similar state of bemused surprise and they stare at each other. Evan has the distinct feeling of intruding into a stranger’s home. _Yes, hello. It seems I got lost and accidentally wandered into your home. My bad. _Given the way they parted last time, he almost thinks that Jared might throw a knife at him. He wouldn't blame him, honestly. He's felt like there's been a knife rammed into his chest the entirety of the week and it wouldn't make much difference if Jared turned it into reality. 

Because he’s really tired and wants to get sleep, Evan is the first to move. He takes his backpack off and props it against the wall. Taking a moment to stare at the wall and gather the will power to look at Jared, Evan inhales deeply and then turns to him. He quietly says, “Hey.”

Jared blankly looks at him as if Evan isn't there and he goes back to staring down at his coffee mug. After a moment, Jared scrolls on his phone but Evan can tell that he is just as out of his depth with the situation as Evan is. Evan stares at him for a long time. He notes that Jared has bags under his eyes and may possibly look even worse than himself. He stares at him for so long that Evan becomes semi-panicked with the thought that maybe he really _isn't_ here and that he died and that Jared can't actually see him at all. But, no, Jared glances up at him once and Evan sees his fists clench very briefly before reopening and hiding under the table. He bitterly asks, "Why are you just standing there?"

"I don't know."

"You never know what you're doing, do you?" There was a hint of mockery there.

"Yeah," Evan feels very small, he's never heard Jared sound that way before. Bitterness oozes in Jared's voice like a heavy oil spill and all of it is directed right at him. In a cool dismissal, Jared turns away from him and walks to the window where he silently stares down at the view. 

Unwilling to stand there any longer, Evan is about to take his backpack to the room when Jared says, "I'm an idiot."

"What? No, you're not---"

"Shut up," Jared smiles tightly and then looks at him coldly, "Just shut up, Evan. I don't want to see you right now."

Evan's heart falls and he makes on Jared's wish. Taking his things back to their room he wonders just what is happening right now. Are they still together? They never officially said they were broken up...But then, that’s when he notices that there are significantly less things in their room. Jared’s clutter of objects aren’t on his bedside table. Nor are the man’s clothes in any of the drawers or hanging in the closet. Evan backs away from all this evidence because somehow it makes the situation all the more real. 

Evan’s heart thumps in his chest and he startles when Jared quietly comes to the door and says, “You’ve noticed I’ve packed.”

Evan spins around and rather foolishly repeats, "I thought you didn't want to see me?"

Jared crosses his arms, "I don't, that's why I'm leaving."

Evan is speechless. It's not like he wasn't expecting it but hearing it is a surprise nevertheless, "What? No---"

Jared interrupts him again, "This is something I’ve been thinking about for a while now, actually," He pauses and the walks to the room's window. It seems he finds it easier to speak to Evan if he can stare at anything else but him. Jared quietly says, "Honestly, I wanted to spend some time by myself on the trip because I had to---I don’t know, I felt I had to be on my own for awhile. You know, ‘find myself,’” He laughs softly, but it doesn’t hold much mirth.

Evan finds himself taking a step forward to him. He’s surprised when Jared suddenly says, “We’ve always been in each other’s lives one way or another. I mean, there was that bump in high school where I said I didn’t want us to hang out in public. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I was just being a jerk because I thought it was the cool thing to do. Anyways,” Jared leans closer to the window as if he spots something, there is no trace of the bitterness in his voice. Now, it's just thoughtful and melancholic, “Anyways, we’ve always been in each other’s lives. Therefore, being together felt right. It felt natural because we’ve_ always_ been together in some way or another..."

“I know I haven’t been around all that much this past year. Yes, it may surprise you to find that I'm vaguely self-aware. As I said, I think I just needed some space. And, no, I wasn’t cheating in case you were wondering,” Evan flinches and Jared continues on, “I was always hoping that this would work out when we first started dating. I was hoping that I would be enough,” When Jared sees Evan about to protest he says, “Yes, you told me that you wouldn’t see me as a replacement for Connor. I guess I was just either overly optimistic or an idiot to believe that that was possible. You’re stuck in the past, Ev. I don’t want to always play second fiddle to a ghost---or to who _was_ a ghost up until recently," He repeats, "We need to break up.”

Evan was not at all expecting Jared to share all of that. While he was speaking, Jared seemed to be unraveling from the tight coil of anger and bitterness to a deep sort of somberness. Seeing Jared look sad and beaten down hurts Evan deeply and makes him hate himself even more. “I don’t---I don’t want,” Evan stutters and incredulously says, “I didn’t want this at all. Jared, I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel that way!"

Jared solemnly says, “Maybe you didn’t mean to, but it’s what I've felt.” 

“I didn’t know that that’s why you’ve been so distant. If I had known, I would’ve tried to have been better.”

Jared just smiles sadly, almost kindly and it makes Evan's heart hurt to see it, “I don’t think that would’ve changed anything---your heart would not have been in it. In fact, your heart has never really been in this relationship.”

“But, I love you," As soon as he says that he knows the words have met an empty room. 

Jared sighs, “I love you too, Evan. But not in that way anymore.” 

“Are you really serious?”

“Yes, I think we’ve both been miserable to be honest. We’ve both been waiting for two entirely different things. I’ve been waiting for you to come around and you’ve been waiting for someone who was gone. Speaking of which---" Jared casts a glance around the room as if Connor is there, “Where’s Mr. MIA?"

He doesn't feel ready to move away from the topic of their breaking down relationship and Evan's head swims with the change of topic. He quietly says, “I don’t know…”

Jared raises his eyebrows disbelievingly, “What?!”

“He left before I could see him again…” Evan looks away, Jared is probably going to find this amusedly ironic.

He's surprised when Jared hisses, “Bastard.”

"I know I am."

"No, _he_ is," He frowns for a moment, "And you too...You know what, both of you are."

Evan crosses his arms and stubbornly stares down at his feet; he's awash with emotion. 

A long, long moment of silence passes before Jared asks, “How could he leave again?”

Evan snaps out of his deep rumination as his heart picks up speed again, “I don’t know, Jared. I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it the whole way home and I’m—I’m—“

“Angry?”

“I’m sick. I feel it,” Evan rubs over his heart, “I feel it here.”

“Do you wish you hadn’t found him again?”

“No.”

"You know what's funny? That sick feeling you said you feel here," Jared points at his own chest, "I've felt it all the time around you..."

Hearing that absolutely crushes Evan, "Jared...I'm so sorry," He starts to cry because this is all too much. 

He hears Jared approach him and gently tap him on the shoulder, "Don't cry, it wasn't all bad. Evan, Evan, come here," He pulls Evan into a hug, "I was happy with you. You were my best friend and I think we ended mistaking that for a rather ill-advised relationship. The timing was all wrong. I know we rushed into things when you hadn't even gotten over Connor. I'm just sorry we ended up like this."

Evan squeezes his eyes shut and presses his eyes into Jared's shoulder. His hands clutch at Jared's shirt as he struggles to say, "You sound like you've been thinking about this for a while now."

"You can tell?"

"Yeah, you sound all adulty," Evan can't help but smile when he hears Jared laugh. 

"Fuck, God forbid I turn into a real adult."

"You're not too bad," Evan sighs into the hug and tightens his hold on Jared's shirt even more as he says, "You said _we were _best friends..."

Jared is quiet for a long minute, "What do you want me to say?"

So, that's a no. Evan pulls away, "I don't want you to say anything." He rubs his eyes and hugs himself.

"You don't want me to talk?"

"No, not that," when he looks up he sees Jared smirking slightly; he looks a little like his old self, "Not that."

Jared sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He looks exhausted as he says, "I'm so goddamn stupid. This whole thing is stupid."

"I know...Wait, you're not stupid---"

"No, you don't know anything at all. You don't get it," Jared's voice rises as he starts to get angry again, "You know what’s fucked? I’m not angry with you—even if I really really want to be. I’m angry at _ him. _ I’m going to kill him next time I see him. Why the Hell isn't he here? He screwed up our lives and he doesn't have the decency to be here so I can punch him.” The anger leaves him just as fast as it arrived and he's back to looking tired, "Don't get me wrong, I _am _angry at you. Just not as much as I am at him. Stop looking so concerned, Evan. I'm not serious. Do I look like someone capable of killing anybody? No."

Evan just asks, "Jared, are we still going to be friends?"

Jared looks wrong-footed, "Are you seriously asking me that?"

Evan cagily nods. 

"You're a funny guy sometimes, you know that?" Jared smiles, "You weren't ever really aware of it. That's what I liked about you."

Jared leaves the room. 

Evan snaps into action and follows him, "Wait, Jared, where are you going?"

"I'm staying at a friend's place," Jared's putting on a jacket and slipping on his shoes, "Don't bother messaging me, I won't answer. I'll be back for my things tomorrow," He's opening the door and stepping out, "See you around."

"See you around? Does that mean---" 

He takes one last glance at Evan and says, "Take care of yourself" and then he's gone. He doesn't look behind him once as he walks down the hallway and into the elevator. Evan stands there and watches him go the whole time.

Hours after Jared's departure, one thought circles around his head: _Was this always going to happen in the end? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all are doing well.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! <3333


	19. A Warm Trio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Certain things are shared.

For two weeks, Evan's apartment is quieter and emptier in a way it hadn't been before. There are more empty spaces littered around the apartment and their emptiness speaks loudly to him. Where there were once two toothbrushes, there is only one; where there were many mugs in the cupboards, now there are few; there is a big gaping hole behind Evan's back when he goes to bed and things are different but not dramatically so. Apparently, the past year was kind of a trial run of what it would be like to live alone since Jared was often gone and never home. Now, Evan feels a little acclimated to being alone in his apartment but the knowledge that there is no chance that his solitude will be interrupted by the chance of Jared returning home saddens him deeply. 

As such, Evan spends most of his time outside now. He mostly wanders the city, people watches from cafes, and takes walks through the parks. Being surrounded by people and the life of the city has the opposite affect of making him feel less lonely---if anything, it highlights it. Being outside is better than being at home where the walls are stuffy, enclosed, and quiet as a box. Still, the worst part of being outside for a long period of time means that he'll have to go home at some point and he dreads reentering his home. 

He's brought up these feelings to his therapist and she's suggested that he start filling up all those empty spaces with some of his own things in order to reclaim them and make his home a space he'd feel comfortable in. Evan bought quite a few succulents and plants that Jared never wanted to have in the house because he didn't like the smell that freshly watered plants would get. It seems that Jared occupies his thoughts in tandem with Connor. Each of them bring their special brand of bitterness to Evan's thoughts. He feels endless shame and guilt when he thinks of Jared; thoughts of him taste like bleach and cayenne pepper. And then he feels a whole mess of loss, betrayal, and sadness when he thinks of Connor; it doesn't taste of anything except it colors his life in monochrome colors and disquieting dreams. 

Despite this, the plants bring some color to his apartment and make him smile each time he sees them. Dewey green succulents occupy the spaces that Evan felt were most empty. Some happy green flora potted in round containers keep the corners of the apartment company. And hanging from the ceiling are a variety of herbs that Evan always wanted to grow. He once read that plants liked the sound of music and so he plays soft instrumentals and nature sounds in the morning as a way to greet his plant friends. He's also heard that plants respond well to being spoken to, but Evan feels a little too shy to try and do that yet. Something about speaking in an empty apartment seems very sad and he feels highly self-conscious about doing such a thing. 

One evening, while Evan is having take-out and considering buying fairy-lights to put around the living room, he receives a series of texts. 

**heeeyyyyy welcome back to the states!! **

**thanks for telling me by the way >:( **

**some friend you are/s </3**

**I'm kidding. I'm happy you're back! We've missed you a lot ; ;**

**tell me when u can come over. I wanna see u!!!!!**

_Aw man, you found out. Who told you?_

_I'm kidding too. X)_

_For real though, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I've just been tired after the trip and wanted to rest. I didn't realize how much time passed..._

Evan presses a fist against his head and takes several deep breaths,

_As to when I can come over, would this weekend be ok? _

**it's alright, I understand! dw**

**Of course! I'll be home all day so come by literally whenever lmao **

**You can tell me all about your travels AND I'll order your favorite pizza~~~~**

**(I do hope Italy didn't just destroy your idea of good pizza)**

_Sounds good! _

_Haha _

_See you then! :D_

Evan sets down his phone and loses all his appetite. Putting his head in his knees he thinks about the thing that he's been avoiding these last two weeks. 

Zoe....

Should he tell her?

Even the thought of telling her threatens to make him lose all the food in his stomach. He groans and rubs his eyes. 

The answer seems obvious: yes, of course he needs to tell her that he found her lost brother. If he doesn’t do it, he would never forgive himself. The biggest thing that stops him from doing such a thing is the thought of how happy she’s been. Over the years, Zoe has made a lot of progress in terms of her grief over her brother and her trauma, he doesn’t want to make her take several thousand steps back on that if he tells her that he found Connor but lost him again. 

He’s also sure that if he tells Zoe about where Connor was last living, she’d book a ticket straight to Rome to see him. No matter how angry Evan is at Connor, he doesn’t want to make him have a reunion with his sister that he’s not ready for. 

Evan gets up and blindly paces his living room. Sighing when he can't come up with a good decision, he peeks out from behind his fingers and comes face to face with one of his plants. 

"What do you think, Minty?"

His mint plant balefully stares back at him.

"I know, I know, I _should _tell her."

...

"But I really really really," He exhales, "REALLY, don't want to."

...

"It won't be so bad? How do you know?"

...

"Basil, don't interrupt. Minty is talking. Uh-huh, I see...Yeah, keeping it secret would be awful. You're right, I _would _hate myself. But..."

...

"Wait, what did you say cacti? I should tell _Alana _first? Oh my gosh, you're a genius," Evan lifts up the little potted cacti and spins around, "I'm definitely going to do that. I'll see what she thinks and then maybe she can help me tell Zoe! Yes! This is great. Oh, I feel better, guys. Thank you," He sets the cacti down and smiles at his little plants. 

******

Stanford has a campus of sprawling green grass and sunny skies. The Spanish architecture of the buildings contributes to the general warm feeling of the weather because of its sandy and clay-colored walls. In the shade of one of the cool halls, Evan and Alana rest in one of the seating areas after one of her lectures ended. 

Wrapped in autumn colors, Alana looks every bit the university student with her stylish glasses and colorful woven scarf. She nurses a hot cup of coffee despite the warm California weather. Evan nibbles on a granola bar he picked up along the way. It's the only thing he's eaten this whole morning because he hasn't been able to stomach anything else. But, he bought the bar because he wanted to be able to tell Alana his story as clearly as possible without a fuzzy head and empty stomach. Alana looks calm and collected as always, except there’s a trace of worry in her eyes as she asks, “So, Evan, what did you want to talk about? Are you ok?”

Evan nervously taps his fingers on his leg and says, “I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m good as ever, lots of studying because midterms are in a couple of days," Evan is thankful Alana entertained his obvious attempt to stall his true reason he wanted to meet up, but not for long---"Seriously though, what’s up? You mentioned something about Zoe in your text,” She taps her chin, “To be more specific, you said “I need to ask you for advice. It’s about Zoe. Obviously, that made me concerned to read.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry,” Evan rubs the back of his neck. When Alana simply looks expectantly at him to continue he sighs and says, “Something happened during our trip to Europe,” Evan trails off and looks down at his hands, “I---I saw Connor.”

To her credit, Alana doesn't jump out of her seat but she does spill a little coffee on her hands. After a moment of dabbing the coffee away with napkins she asks, "Wait, wait, you _what?!” _

Evan considers running away. Just, running all the way to the ocean and sailing across the sea. Instead, he says, “Connor, I found him...”

Alana clasps her hands to her mouth as tears well up in her eyes. She looks away and then collapses back into her seat, “Oh, _ Evan _…That’s wonderful! That’s amazing, I can’t believe it! I need to tell Zoe, right now,” To Evan’s terror, Alana whips out her phone and starts to call Zoe, “Is that what you wanted to ask me about---God, I can’t even hold my phone properly---” 

Evan reaches for her and says, “Alana, wait! Don’t tell Zoe yet.”

Alana slowly lowers her phone, “Why?”

Evan drops his hand and painfully admits, “I found him but I---I lost him again.” 

Alana blinks disbelievingly at him, “I’m sorry, what?” Evan has never seen her look so confused in all the time he's known her. He suddenly feels very tired when he thinks about how he's the only one who can erase that confusion off her face with the truth. He says, “It’s kind of a long story.”

Alana rubs her eyes hard. Disappointment in her eyes, “Tell me what happened, Evan.”

Evan tells her. 

When Evan finishes, Alana leans back in her chair looking waxen and sickly, “Good, God.” Alana gets up and starts pacing around while rubbing her forehead in thought. Evan quietly watches her and feels guilty for making her look so stressed because he didn't _have _to seek her out for advice. But here he is, making someone else share this knowledge that has been weighing heavy on Evan's shoulders for weeks. When Alana sits back down she just looks at him as if she's lost but then it quickly gives way for resolve. Evan feels a fleeting feeling of admiration to see the obvious determination in Alana's eyes because he senses she knows exactly what to do. 

Prompting her, he says, “What do you think? Should I tell Zoe?”

Alana presses her lips firmly together and then says, “Yes, you should tell her." She pauses and then looks up at the sky. She says, as if from very far away, “Do it tonight. I’ll be there later tonight, she shouldn’t have to hear the news by herself.”

Evan sighs in relief, "Thank you for listening, Alana. It really means a lot," Alana gives him a little smile. He continues, "I've been really worried about telling Zoe...I just...I don't want to hurt her."

Alana rests a comforting hand on his shoulder, "You won't hurt her, Evan. If anything, you would hurt her if you _don't _tell her. Remember, she has us. Maybe it'll hurt her to hear what you have to say but we'll be there to comfort her."

Something tight uncoils inside Evan and he says, "You're right..." He sighs and shakes his head, "God, I'm so glad I talked to you, Alana. You have no idea."

"It's alright, Evan. We're here for you."

"Thanks..." Evan and Alana share shaky but heartfelt smiles and get up to leave. 

Before he and Alana part, Alana quietly says, “I’m sorry about you and Jared.”

Evan's face falls and he looks down at the floor, “Yeah, me too.”

******

It’s late evening when Evan arrives at Zoe and Alana’s home. The air is chilly and dry. An orange pumpkin sits charmingly on their porch step even if it’s only the end of September. Evan knocks at the door where a handmade wreath of dried flowers and wheat hangs upon it. Zoe brightly opens the door and crushes him into a hug, “Welcome back, world-traveler!” She pulls back and smiles at him, “It’s so good to see you again. It feels like it’s been forever!”

Evan returns her smile but it’s a little painful to do so---it seems like Alana didn’t warn Zoe about the general idea of what he was going to tell her. Her eyes drop to the bag he has in his hands, “Oh, is that for us?”

“Yeah, I got you guys some souvenirs.”

“You didn’t have to,” Zoe leads Evan into the house where he puts the bag down on the living room couch after taking off his shoes. 

“I wanted to,” Evan shrugs off his jacket and despite feeling extremely nervous about telling Zoe about what happened he feels the comfort of being in their home wash over him. He can smell the spicy scent of a candle burning somewhere in the house but the aroma doesn't do anything to relax his tense shoulders. 

“That’s why I love you,” She gives him a cheeky grin and he lets himself have a moments peace as he lets her sort through the trinkets he got her and Alana. He hears Alana say, "Is Evan here?" before she appears from one of the hallways leading off to their room. She spots him and says, "Hey, Evan." They both look at each other. A weight rests in their stare as they both silently communicate their nerves about what is about to happen. Evan quietly says, "Hey."

Zoe stops rusting through the bag of trinkets and looks up. She glances between them and then slowly says, "Um, is everything ok?"

Evan squeaks, "Yeah, everything is fine!"

Zoe purses her lips and looks at Alana for explanation. Alana shoulders fall in defeat and she says, "You're too good at reading a room, Zo."

Zoe plays with one of the hair clips Evan got her from Paris and says, "Is something the matter, guys?" It's clear she's uncomfortable with the situation with the way she's sinking into her shoulders. Aiming for levity she says, "You guys didn't get into a fight, did you? Is that even possible?" Despite her light voice she wasn't smiling as she asked it. 

Swallowing and gathering his courage, Evan says, "We didn't get into a fight, no...It's something else." He looks at Alana for help but she just quietly joins Zoe on the couch and nods at him to continue. Zoe looks at her searchingly but Alana gently grabs her hand and squeezes it. 

Evan rubs his arm and looks away, “During the trip….Something happened….” Damn it, he feels the tears already beginning to well up. It doesn’t help to have to talk about these kinds of things twice in one day, so soon after it all happened. Zoe waits in silence for him to elaborate. Evan forces the words to crawl out of his mouth: “I saw Connor.”

“During the trip….Something happened….” When Zoe waits in silence for him to elaborate he quietly says, “I saw Connor.”

Color flees Zoe’s face and she turns pale as a statue. On a soft, painful exhale she breathes, “What?”

“I found Connor,” It's terrible because Zoe stares at him like a millions stars are in her eyes. She looks at him and she looks so so young and hopeful and bright and he hates that he has to be the one to make it all crash down. It feels like a knife stabs into him as he says, “But he left me again.”

Zoe remains in stone-cold silence for so long that Evan wonders if she’ll ever speak again. He was right, the stars have fled her eyes and receded into darkness. She covers her face and bends her head towards her knees and whispers too softly for him and Alana to hear. She stays like that, for a long moment before she wearily lifts her head and shakily says, "I don't understand, what happened?"

Evan doesn't waste any time before starting to tell her the story, "I met him on a train, except he looked different and didn't let me know it was him until much later. I'll explain later, but..." He tells Zoe the story and perhaps goes into more detail than he did when he told Alana. The energy in the room is a strange one. It's at once more delicate than an eggshell and relentlessly stubborn as a reflection of Zoe's desire to listen and not runaway. The glow in her eyes is dangerously bright as she listens to Evan's new stories of Connor and she sometimes smiles despite herself at some of the funnier moments in his story. Through it all, she doesn't ask any questions and just listens but a desperate sort of sadness veils her every expression even when her face is carefully blank.

When Evan finishes his story with a quiet cough, Zoe doesn't say anything for a long moment before saying, "I can't believe it." She gets up and starts pacing. A nervous giggle bubbles up in her as she says, "You found Connor..." Her voice turns more sad as she approaches a window and touches the glass, "You found him...This is insane, I don't know what to do." Her breathing starts picking up and Zoe starts moving quickly towards the door, "I'm going for a drive. I need to think. I need---" 

Alana gets up and follows her, "Zoe, wait, don't go!"

The door slams behind Zoe and Alana runs out the door to follow her. 

Evan gets up but doesn't move to follow them. He worries about Zoe and wonders if she did leave after all. But no, he can hear Zoe and Alana's voice coming from outside. Long minutes pass before Alana appears with a pale and drained-looking Zoe behind her. When they reenter the cool breeze of autumn air breezes in from the open door and gives Evan some much needed fresh air he didn't even realize he wanted. During his story, the house got stuffy and almost constricting with the weight of everyone's emotions. But now, the fresh air from outside lends itself to a sort of emotional and mental cleansing. 

Zoe returns to where she was sitting not too long ago and says, "Sorry, it's just kind of a lot to take in."

Evan shares a shaky smile with Alana as she sits down too. He's really grateful that she's here and he hope she realizes this. He tells Zoe, "It's ok. I understand."

"Thanks..." Zoe compulsively starts smoothing her hair over to one shoulder. Her hands runs down the strands quickly seeking comfort. She says, "I just don't understand how he could---"

Evan knows exactly what she's talking about, “Leave again?”

Zoe casts her eyes downward, “Yes.” Her hands pause in her hair before starting again. 

“He told me he wasn’t ready.”

"He wasn't ready to see me?"

Evan winces, Zoe sounded so small and child-like there, "He wasn't ready to come home."

Zoe frowns, "That's basically the same thing." Her eyes grow far-away as she sinks into her own memories. Alana wraps an arm across her back and holds her close, something Zoe melts into and appreciates. Alana soothingly says, "Evan gave a friend of Connor's his information. They promised to give it to your brother."

"Thanks, Evan. Thank you for telling me."

"Of course," Evan sighs. This went a little more smoother than he expected. He supposes that if they were all a little younger things might have turned out differently. Zoe may have actually gone speeding away in her car and not returned until hours later. 

Evan rubs his arms and finally looks at Zoe. He feels compelled to say, “Zoe, I’m sorry I lost him again.”

Zoe's face softens as she says, “It’s ok, Evan. He chose to run away and that means he can choose to come back if he wants.”

Hearing those words shines a little light in Evan. He blinks at Zoe and feels a flood of admiration wash over him. She is lit from a behind in the light of the afternoon sun and something about it makes her look like the very definition of hope. He suddenly has an image of Connor sitting right beside Zoe. He looks like his old self: shoulder length brown hair and twinkling mismatched jokes. The thought of him being there with them takes Evan's breath away with how much he wants it.

Evan gave Z his information for Connor on the off chance that Connor will contact him again. He didn't really think anything would come of it when he did. Now, Zoe makes him really feel like there's more than a slight chance---that instead, it's going to definitely happen at some point, "You're right."

He and Zoe share small smiles. To Evan's concern, Zoe's falls away after a second as she says, "I'm sorry about Jared."

Evan frown's down at his hands, "I am too. It was my fault it happened."

Zoe looks at him with sympathy and chews her lip before saying, "I wouldn't say it was _entirely _your fault."

"I c-cheated on him though. I shouldn't have done that," Evan's stomach twists painfully as he remembers Jared's hurt expression. 

"Maybe so...But, you guys were already drifting apart before this. Don't be too hard on yourself, Evan. The blame doesn't always entirely lay on you."

"I guess," Evan's heart twists again when he says, "But I really hurt him. I don't think he even wants to be friends anymore. I asked him and he didn't say."

This time Alana speaks, "All break ups are hard and Jared may be hurt now, but I don't think you guys are actually going to stop being friends forever. I think you both just need time and space from each other."

Evan quietly nods and repeats, "Time and space." That's kind of what Jared mentioned. 

They linger in a gentle quiet for a couple of seconds before Zoe hums and says, "I don't know about you two, but I kind of want to talk about something else now."

Evan laughs, "Yeah, me too."

Alana smiles and lays back on the couch, "No more talking. Let's watch Avatar or something."

A bright bubble of laughter explodes in the living room as they laugh away their stress and welcome the relief of each other's company. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Avatar = Avatar the last Airbender. not the movie or the live-action movie. god forbid. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	20. Love is Patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I proofread this a couple times but things can still slip by. Sorry if there's something funky.

**2 months later - November**

In place of where the amusement park once stood, is open land paved over in concrete. 

It’s another sunny day like that day he and Jared were stranded in the park with only each other for company, except it doesn’t seem as excruciatingly hot as it was all those years ago. A cool wind sweeps through the place and tempers the heat of the sun somewhat so that it’s pleasantly warm. 

He’s back home to visit Heidi, but before doing so, something made him visit this place first. As with all things, time not only changed this place from Evan’s childhood but it also erased it. Only the skeletons of a couple of rides remain behind the silverlinked fence like fossilized metal skeletons. It seems this place was a lot smaller than Evan remembered it. He just visited the place a couple of years ago with Jared and apparently a lot can happen within a handful of years. 

******

He’s sitting in the dining room of Heidi’s new home. Technically, it’s not _ really _new because she’s been living in the place for a couple of years now after Evan helped buy it for her, but the newness of it has never really worn away. 

Back in their old home, they were never really able to have many things because otherwise their small home would quickly clutter. Neither of them really liked having a cluttered space since it would raise Evan’s anxiety and it would make Heidi feel like a slob. Now, Heidi’s new home is filled with the sorts of little knick knacks that she never allowed herself to indulge in before. There are things like fun printed kitchen towelettes with witty quotes, colorful printed pillows in the living room, big cozy blankets and actual food in the fridge and cupboard. She has made her home into a space of comfort rather than one of eternal transition---something their old place never once was. 

To Evan’s embarrassment and pleasure, lining the walls of the living room and the halls are framed photographs of he and Heidi, and on occasion, his father would be on some of them. Some years ago, he was really surprised when he stumbled upon a picture of him and Connor. It was a candid photo of the two of them and they were smiling broadly at each other mid-laughter on what Evan recognizes as their old couch. He could hardly believe it when he saw it. A funny feeling in his gut dizzied him when he saw the photo, kind of like seeing the ghost of someone once loved in the silhouette of a stranger. He had asked Heidi about it and she explained she had sneakily taken that photo of them during one of their movie nights and saved it because she loved it so much. She said she loved seeing him so happy. Heidi offered to make a copy of it so he could have it but he shook his head in something like fright and thanked her but said he didn’t want one. She shrugged and patted his shoulder comfortingly and said to let her know if he ever changed his mind. 

Sitting at the dining table, Evan is acutely aware of where that picture is in proximity to himself. The back of his neck burns with the awareness of it, as if the Connor in the picture opened his eyes and is currently staring at him from his place all the way next to the TV in the living room. Evan picks at the lasagna Heidi made and gently rubs the back of his neck in an effort to get rid of the feeling. 

There is the scrape of the fork and then Heidi's voice breaks his thoughts, “Do you like the lasagna?”

Evan smiles at his mom, “It’s really good.”

Heidi grins, “I know it is, I’ve been practicing this recipe for quite a while now.”

“That’s great mom, you did a really good job.”

“Thank you," Heidi smiles. Not for the first time, Evan thinks his mom looks great. She looks healthier, happier, and like she's taking better care of herself. She's recently cut her hair again and bought new clothes. Evan remembers when she never used to shop for herself because she never believed she had the time for it. But now, after getting her degree and getting a steady job, she's been dedicating more time to self-care---he's happy for her but a small part of him also resents that this new Heidi hadn't appeared when he was still living with her. It doesn't do to dwell on those sorts of thoughts, so he tampers them down and focuses on the present. Heidi says, "It’s an old family recipe. I can give it to you one day if you want to try and make it. Oh! Since you’re here we can make it together one day! Darn, I should’ve asked you if you wanted to help me earlier…”

Evan jokingly says, “No, it’s ok, I can’t really cook anyway.”

Heidi smiles at the joke but looks at him seriously, “You’re an adult now, Evan. You should know how to cook things besides boxed macaroni and grilled cheeses.”

He awkwardly says, “Don’t knock it if it ain’t broke,” when he sees her still looking at him with barely concealed concern he sighs, “I know how to take care of myself, mom. I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

Heidi’s look of concern melts away somewhat and she looks at him a little sadly, “Yeah, you’re all grown-up now. Look at you, you even have a beard. When did that happen?”

Evan self-consciously touches his beard, “You don’t like it?”

“No, I do, it’s just,” Heidi shrugs, still sadly, “I forget sometimes that you’re all grown now. I miss when you were little. I miss having you around.”

Evan silently chews on the lasagna and his mouth feels a little bitter even if the food is sweet in nature. He holds his tongue on saying that she was never really around at all when he was younger. 

Going for that measured optimistic tone, Heidi brightly asks, “So, what did you do today, Evan?”

Evan shrugs, unable to shake off the dark cloud that's come over him, “It was alright.”

Heidi edgily asks, “Did you go anywhere?”

Evan internally sighs. He remembers when she would try to get him to open up with tactics such as this: keep asking questions until the one-word answers give way to full answers, “Yeah, I went to the old amusement park that Jared and I used to go to.”

Brightening up because he shared, she says, “That’s nice!” She pauses, “Oh, wait…”

“It’s closed.”

“I heard about that a while ago, I just forgot. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Evan shrugs, “You didn’t know I was going.”

Heidi looks like she's internally kicking herself, “But still, it was special to you.”

“Not really…”

“You used to go there all the time with Jared.”

Evan looks away, “We only went once or twice.” It wasn't as important as she's making it seem. 

Heidi edgily asks, “Why did you go?” Her voice is soft and searching. 

He can tell she really wants him to confide in her. He grips his fork tightly, “I don’t know.”

“Is it because of what happened?”

“I just wanted to go and see it.” 

“Hmmm,” Heidi carefully puts down her fork, “Are you ok, Evan? I know break-ups can be so hard, especially when it was with someone we were really close to...”

“I’m alright…” Evan frowns at his plate and then tries to lightly say, as if it’s a joke that he finds funny, “I was actually going to propose to him. I was putting it off for so long, though. I was so scared he’d reject me because things hadn’t been going so well last year. I’m glad I didn’t...Propose that is,” He pauses, “I don’t even know what to do with the ring now…”

Heidi frowns, “I was sad when you told me you guys had broken up. I still am, I thought you guys were happy.”

Evan looks away and thinks about the year leading up to the break-up, “Not really.” 

After a moment, Heidi says, “You can always keep it?”

“Keep it?”

“Well...You know...Just in case you two…”

Evan’s stomach twists in pain hearing that, “_Mom.” _

“I’m the optimist, you know that."

Evan just shakes his head, “It's done, mom." Evan frowns down at his hands.

Heidi winces, "Sorry, I said that...Even moms say stupid things."

"No, it's ok," Evan sighs deeply and runs his hands down his face, "Ugh. It's just...Nothing is as I expected. Nothing ever works out for me."

"Oh, sweetie," Heidi comes around the table and sits beside him. She rests one comforting hand on his shoulder, "Maybe things don't turn out as we expected them to but you know, you gotta roll with the punches," She pretends to punch the air, "Adapt."

"That's my problem, though," Evan looks at her and thinks he must sound as lost as he feels, "I can't seem to do that. I don't change...Things happen and I wait for them to get better or I wait until they go back to how they used to be. Jared told me that ever since Connor disappeared, I’ve just been waiting for him to come back and I was never really conscious of it till now," Evan shakily says, "He's left me a second time, and now, I feel like I'm actually conscious of the fact that I'm waiting. I don't even know what to do with this information. It's like yes, I'm waiting, I've _been _waiting. Now what? I'm this way with many things...And I think I always have been."

Heidi hums in sympathy and says, "You’ve always been a patient boy, Evan. Well, now you're a man and you'll always be my boy but that's besides the fact," She stammers much like Evan when she's nervous. Heidi sighs and then continues in a more careful way, "I realize when you say that you've always been the 'waiting sort' you're also talking about me..." Evan finds it difficult to meet her eyes and tenses. He wasn't expecting her to admit that, "You’ve always been patient with me and I think I---I've never really deserved that patience. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am thankful for the fact that you were patient with me all those times I have never really deserved it. All those times I picked you up late from school, all those times I came home late from work, all those promises I’ve broken…” Heidi starts tearing up, “You’re patience is so...so...amazing...and it reflects on your heart. Your heart is so good, Evan and I love you so much---” Heidi pauses, “I know, you want to wait for Connor, I know you _ have _ been waiting for him even when you didn’t think you were. But, I think you need to stop. You can tell me to mind my own business but I don’t want to see you holding yourself back anymore because you’re stuck in the past. I’m not saying to let go of Connor completely, but I think all this waiting has hurt you and I don’t want you to hurt any longer,” She grips his hand, "And I'm sorry for what _I've _done that's hurt you. I never meant to do any of it, please know that. This is a long time coming but I think I owe you an apology: I'm sorry."

Evan can hear the truth in his mother's words and recognize that they are thoughts he's had himself. He appreciates her apology more than he can say. He has the distinct impression that many of the closed doors inside of himself have opened, letting in clean bright light and air. Evan is not ready to explore what these open doors offer him, but he's willing to accept this newfound lightness and wait until he _is _ready. He grips his mom's hand tight and says, "Thank you," He's not sure if he forgives her yet but he definitely feels one step closer to it. Returning to the topic of Connor he says, "I can try what you’re saying but I don’t think I can do it. It would feel like I’m...forgetting about him.”

After her apology Heidi looked a little haunted around the eyes but that is carefully balanced with a sense of inner-cleansing. She wipes an errant tear and sits up a little straighter, “I’m not asking you to forget about him, I’m just asking you to-to--move on.”

“Move on…” Evan sighs, “I think it’s already too late for that.” The time for moving on has well and truly sailed away. 

Heidi reasonably says, “Maybe you tried to do that too fast with Jared, maybe you needed to wait for the right moment.”

“Is now the right time?” 

“I don’t know, only you can tell.”

Evan frowns at his hands and wipes a stray tear. He doesn’t say anything as his mom wraps him in a hug.

******

_ He’s lost and he’s searching again. _

_The house is flooded with natural light and it raises his frustration that he can’t find what he’s looking for because he should be able to see it with all this light but he can’t. _

_ Room after room shows up empty. There are frames on the walls but no photos. The couches are bare and the TVs are always off. Everything seems to be waiting for something or someone to arrive and complete the place but Evan can’t find it. _

******

Standing in front of that photo of him and Connor, Evan pulls it off the wall and sits on the couch with it cradled in his hands. He stares down at it until he and Connor almost seem to move. He rakes his memory to try and recall what they were laughing about but nothing unveils itself and all he’s left is an empty space in his recollection. 

******

“Evan.”

He wakes up with the photo in his arms and Heidi standing over him. He moves as if to hide the photo but it’s too late, she’s already seen it if he goes by the expression on her face. Heartache exists inside him like jagged canyons of broken glass. “G’morning, mom.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” She says sadly and touches his forehead softly, “I’m sorry.”

******

When he’s going back home to California, amongst his things he finds the photo of him and Connor. A brief flare of anger flashes in him. _ Why did mom give me this? After all we talked about she still gave me this. I said I didn’t want it. _

Evan almost crumples the photo in his hands but then he stops and shoves it in his pocket. After a second, he smooths it out in his pocket, feeling the cool smooth paper in his fingertips. When he takes his hand out of his pocket, he doesn’t think about the photo the whole trip home. 

******

A letter arrives in the mail addressed with no returning address. Inside, are the pictures from Italy. Seeing them is like getting burned and Evan shoves them back in the envelope. He carefully looks inside to see if there’s a note but there’s only the pictures. Evan stows them away in the box where he keeps their old letters and he pushes it all the way to the back of his closet. 

After a moment, he pulls out the box of letters and reads them over again. The envelopes are yellow and soft with age. The paper feels so fragile that Evan unfolds them all with the lightest of hands. Connor’s voice floats up to meet him with each word Evan reads. He reads the poetry and looks at the drawings Connor gave to him so many years ago, and as he reads them he sometimes remembers what he wrote in response. 

Evan spends a long time at the foot of his closet just reading the letters. After, he wonders if Connor has Evan’s letters saved away as well. 

It’s so strange to think of the other man keeping his letters with him after all this time. When he was missing, Evan just pictured his letters up and vanished out of existence like Connor. 

The pictures beckon to him and Evan pulls them out again because he didn’t actually look all that closely at them. With a thudding heart, Evan flips through the photos. All of them are of him except for one. It’s a photo of him and Connor that someone took for them on the Spanish Stairs. Someone came up to them asking if the two of them wanted a picture together and they looked at each other, shrugged, and then the stranger snapped the photo of them. Evan remembers standing close to Connor, with all the view of Rome behind him, and he remembers smiling really wide for the photo in a way he hadn’t done in a long time. 

Evan hadn’t seen how the picture turned out till now. It’s clearly different from Connor’s style of photo-taking. Something about the angle and perspective makes it obvious that it’s not his, but what matters is the subjects in the photo more so than the way it was taken. 

He and Connor stand together with cheeks flushed from the heat. Connor’s shades sweep back his hair and open his face for the photo. Both of them smile wide with one arm wrapped behind the other. Evan remembers how warm it was that day and the heat of Connor’s thin shoulder under his hand. 

He remembers a poem Connor once quoted in one of their letters. Evan's read those letters so many times he knows some of those poems by heart. 

_"The summer night is like a perfection of thought. / The house was quiet because it had to be." _

Evan has screwed up on so many occasions, he knows he has, but he can't help but think, "Does the house really _have_ to be quiet?"

Evan looks around his apartment and takes in his living space. His plants are healthy and growing, the lights are dim as he likes them, he has a series of pictures in his hands and everything feels alright. He finds, he kind of likes this. 

Instead of putting his box of letters and photos from Connor in a hidden space in his closet, Evan decides to leave it somewhere out in the open. He places it somewhere he can easily see it so that rather than treating his memories as a secret thing, he leaves them right in the open. Soon, he thinks, he will get used to seeing it so often he'll forget it's there. 

******

When Evan next meets up with Zoe he carries the photo of him and Connor in his pocket. 

She sits beside him in his apartment. For once, he’s invited Zoe over instead of it being the other way around. Alana couldn’t make it due to a prior engagement but Zoe is here. He keeps the picture in his pocket so he can constantly remind himself of its presence. While he and Zoe put up the fairy lights that Evan bought they talk about the music that she’s been teaching. 

Zoe shakes out the string of stars when Evan tells her, “I have something for you.” He takes out the picture and shakily holds it out to her. Zoe curiously eyes the photo before taking it in hand. The string of lights fall out of her hands as she stares at the picture in wide-eyed disbelief, “Connor…” She breathes. 

“That’s him, yes.”

Of all things Evan expected, Zoe laughs. She beams wide and cheeks flushed and laughs delightedly, “Oh my gosh, he’s _ blonde _ now.” 

Evan quietly laughs along with her but he’s confused about her reaction. Nevertheless he’s happy to see her get some delight from it. 

Zoe wipes her eyes after laughing. Her smile falls into something ruefully sweet. Zoe's voice is hushed and awed as she says, “This is amazing, thank you. I’m happy to finally see him again.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah! I really do,” Zoe grins down at the picture and hugs it to herself, “He’s alive…” She giggles and repeats it, “He’s alive.” She sucks in a breath and whispers, “Oh, I’m so happy,” She hugs Evan. They stay like that, the string of lights tangles around their feet for a long time. 

“He’s going to come back, Evan. I feel it.”

“You think so?”

Zoe silently nods, pulls away, and starts gathering the string of lights again, “I know so.”

******

**1 year later **

It’s Zoe’s birthday. 

When Evan arrives, Zoe brightly pulls him into the house and excitedly announces that he’s here. Thankfully very few people had yet to arrive to the party yet and he was only spared a couple polite greetings and curious glances. He whispers, “Why did you do that??”

“‘Cause you’re here and I’m happy to see you, duh,” Zoe rolls her eyes and grins widely at him. 

Evan pretends to shake his head disapprovingly at her and he says, “Thanks, Zo. Happy Birthday, this is for you,” He hands her his wrapped present and she happily accepts it and places it next to the other presents on the table. 

He hopes she doesn’t take any offense when he comments, “You seem really happy today.”

“I am, actually. Today just seems like a good day. Alana got me my favorite cake, all my friends are coming over, it’s actually sunny today...Yeah.”

“That’s good,” he says, and genuinely means it. He swallows and then hates himself for asking: "When you say, _all_ your friends are coming...Do you mean Jared is too?" Evan looks around, trying to spot the glasses-wearing man. 

Zoe plays with her fingers, "Wait, do you mean you don't know?"

Evan's heart falls, "Did something happen to him?"

Zoe's eyes widen, "No! Nothing happened, he's just...He moved to Chicago."

Evan's shoulders fall in relief. He's glad Jared didn't die or something but the news he's been given isn't any better. Zoe slowly says, "I thought you guys were talking now..."

Evan squeezes his eyes shut and then releases a breath he was holding, "No, not really." They’ve met several times between their break-up and this party by accident, but each of their encounters had been brief and excruciatingly awkward. 

"I see," Zoe winces.

Evan doesn't want to bring her mood down with his problems so he forces a smile and pats her on the arm, "It's ok, Zoe. I was just wondering. You go ahead and party..." he finishes awkwardly. 

Zoe chuckles at that and says, "Alright, Ev. I'll go party," She points at him before leaving, "But don't mope around after what I've told you. Give Jared a call or something, I think it would do you two some good."

Evan sighs and his smile smooths out into something more genuine, "Ok, fine. I will."

Zoe gives him another encouraging smile before leaving to open the door and welcome another friend with a cry of, "Miguel!" After him, more and more people start to arrive. Soon, the small house is bright with the chatter and laughter of Zoe’s many friends. There are many unfamiliar faces, but he recognizes quite a few of them from Zoe’s previous parties. Evan doesn’t usually stay long, being within a large social gathering such as this usually drains his energy really fast even if he doesn’t interact with anybody. It seems that the process of avoiding people consumes more energy than actually interacting with people. 

There is, of course, music in the house because more than one person came with their instrument to the party. All of them gather to the backyard and play random songs together. Evan is enjoying the chaos of their live performance when he brings out his phone and considers Zoe's advice. Now is not exactly the sort of place to make a call to Jared to see how he's doing but somehow being surrounded by people and all their good energy encourages him to be brave. 

He calls him. 

The first call goes to voicemail. Evan is about to call it quits when he tells himself that if he doesn't do it now, he never well again.

Evan calls him again. 

This time the call is picked up.

Jared wearily says, "Hello?" 

Evan's heart starts racing in panic. He gets up and starts pacing around in a circle, "Hi, Jared. It's me...Evan."

"_Evan? _What are you doing calling me for?" Jared sounds tired and confused, "It's midnight."

Evan smacks his forehead and internally screams, "OH! I'm so sorry! I completely forgot about time zones," Evan fumbles with his phone, "So sorry, I--I'll hang up now---"

"Wait!"

Evan pauses and slowly lifts the phone back to his ear. 

"It's ok," Jared sighs, "I'm in Chicago...You probably didn't know that," Before Evan can tell him that he did in fact know that and was an inconsiderate idiot, Jared says, "So, what's up? Why did you call me?"

"It's just---" Evan pauses and slowly backs away to the part of the garden where it's quieter. If he listens hard enough he can still hear the music and it's somewhat comforting, "Um..." He called Jared to confirm he's in Chicago, but Jared thinks he doesn't know that he moved and Evan has no idea what to say. 

In other words, this was a bad idea. 

"Are you surprised I'm in Chicago now? I've rendered you speechless?" Jared flatly says. 

"Yeah..."

"Hm," Evan can just picture him pushing his glasses up his nose and pinching between his eyes. But, no, he's probably in bed and doesn't have his glasses. "I got promoted and sent here to run the main branch."

"That's awesome, Jared!" Evan is really is happy to hear that. Jared worked so hard in his job and he's happy to hear it's paid off. 

"It kind of is." There's a proud smile in Jared's voice. 

"I'm happy for you..."

"Thanks...It's weird, though."

"Really?" Evan asks concerned.

"It's just---" Jared pauses for a bit and then quietly says, "It's just it's weird, before I came here I kept thinking that something was off. It took me a bit to realize it was weird because I was leaving somewhere without you with me..."

Evan seizes up. He's not sure what to make of that statement. 

“Have I weirded you out? I think I have," Jared chuckles into the phone and then he more seriously says, "Dude, think about it, we’ve practically gone everywhere together. We went to the same college, we came here together, and now I’ve left and you've stayed there. It was really strange for me, to be honest.”

“Oh," Evan doesn't know what to say. He glances at the party, they are all involved in singing a rather loud and happy song together. He sinks further into the quiet space of the backyard.

Jared says, “It’s not like I _ wanted _you to come with me. Wait, that sounds bad...I only mean that it felt weird that you didn't come with me," When Evan still doesn't say anything he says, "I’m only telling you this because it’s what I feel. And I’m working on that, telling others what I’m feeling.”

Evan finally asks, “You are?”

“I’ve been seeing a therapist for some time. Even before we broke up, I was. That was where I would go most of the time when I wasn’t home. Well, now I have a new one since I've moved and they've been helping me sort out through some shit. Turns out I have a lot of shit I wasn't even aware of.”

Evan leans against the fence and stares up at the sky, “Wow, I’m happy for you Jared, really...”

“Thanks,” Evan can hear the smile in his voice. It's the soft happy one. “It's nice to say that I feel good. I feel better than I have before.“ Evan nods even if he can't see it, "I feel _ really _good. Like, I don’t want to say I feel free...But, I do.”

Evan looks down, “I see, that’s good.”

Jared must catch onto something in Evan's voice because he says, “Look, Evan. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here. When we were together I didn’t feel _shackled_ to you---or whatever you’re thinking. I just, I don’t know, I felt the same all the time. Does that make sense? Now, I feel like I’ve been growing and changing since we’ve been apart and that wasn’t something I thought was happening to me when we were together. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah...I think so…”

“I don’t think you get it.”

“Not really,” Evan admits.

“It's ok, maybe you'll get it later."

"I guess," Evan doubts it.

"So...Do you remember why you called me?"

"Not really."

"Heh, alright. It was actually nice talking to you. It's been awhile."

"Yeah, it has been," Evan smiles down at his shoes. 

Jared quickly says, "I still care about you, you know?”

Evan blinks, "Uh--"

"But like as a friend," Jared hurriedly adds.

Evan finds himself relaxing a bit at the correction, "I see," He softly says, "Me too."

"So, you really don't remember why you called me?"

"Afraid not..."

"It's ok, you can say you just wanted to hear my lovely voice."

Evan laughs.

"Hey! I'm almost offended you laughed at that."

"Sorry, Sorry."

"Well, since I have you on the line and since I'm now wide awake, let me tell you about Stinky Cheese Steve..."

Evan ends up spending over an hour talking to Jared. Evan tells Jared about his plants and Jared tells Evan about some new video games he’s bought. He hadn't realized he missed talking to his friend so much and he's nearly floating with how happy he is to be talking to him again. 

When their conversation winds to a close with a consistently yawning Jared, Jared says, "Cool, look at us, friends again a year after breaking up..."

"Friends again..." Evan repeats and smiles. 

"Just don't make it a habit to call me at midnight, ok?"

"Sorry..."

"It's whatever, Evan. Good night, dude."

"Good night," Evan hangs up and feels tremendously lighter. Things have been getting better for Evan and Jared was one of the last loose ends in the new life Evan has been trying to make. The party has been nice, but all Evan wants to do now is go home and crawl into bed. Home. For a couple of months now, Evan has made his apartment into a place he can call home. It's a place he's always drawn to and relishes being inside of. Now, after finding some resolution with Jared, all he wants to do is go home and rest. Evan finds Zoe to let her know he’s leaving the party early. She gives him a hug before he leaves and as Evan makes his way home, anticipating playing some nature sounds before he drifts off to sleep. 

******

In the morning, when Evan is about to go for his run, he finds someone familiar waiting outside his apartment building. 

  
  



	21. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited the best I could.

The man outside is tall. 

The man has long brown hair. 

The man has mismatched eyes. 

The man outside is Connor. 

Connor’s expression opens when he sees Evan. He gives a small little wave, “Hey.”

Evan runs away. 

Evan hears a distant, “Evan wait!”

But Evan can’t keep his legs still because he has to get distance between them. Once Evan is all the way down the fire escape stairs he runs out onto the street and flies to his car. He doesn’t drive, just stays parked where he is and presses his aching head onto his steering wheel. 

All of his hurt and betrayal and everything that he’s been feeling in regards to Connor rises up in him like a dormant volcano. It’s been quiet for so long now. A whole year has passed since Italy and Evan still feels the same, his emotions have just been put in mute and now they’re going all the way to the highest setting. Evan has been doing well for himself. His home is now his home again, he and Jared have started to get on good terms again, and Evan thought he was content if not happy.

And now Connor is back again. Evan doesn’t understand him. First he runs away and leaves Evan behind and now he comes all the way to San Francisco to wait outside his apartment? And for what? 

After some time passes in which Evan’s inner turmoil of emotions doesn’t lessen one bit, he starts walking back home and distantly wonders if Connor is still waiting out there. Is he gone again? Did he wait? Do I want him to have waited?

Evan is surprised to find Connor where he left him. Connor sits on a bench by the apartment’s entrance and looks the very image of defeat. However, when he spots Evan his whole face lights up and makes Evan’s insides twist incredibly painfully. Connor hops to his feet, “Evan…” His face falls into something more trepidation, as if worried that Evan will run away again, “Evan.” He just says again like it’s an apology. 

Evan truly doesn’t know what to do. 

He awkwardly fumbles for his keys to go back home but doesn’t make a move to climb the stairs up to his apartment. Connor looks just as lost as he feels and the distance between them, although not very much, feels far wider than the ocean that once separated them. Finally, he says the only thing he can think of to say, “What are you doing here?”

Moving out of the weird frozen state they were both inhabiting, Connor takes one step towards Evan and beseechingly holds his hands out, “Evan, listen, I’m sorry about leaving again. I didn’t know what to do and leaving seemed like the right thing at the time…”

Evan sees that Connor does look apologetic and remorseful for what he did, but he doesn’t feel like he can accept it yet. Despite Connor being here, there is an empty space in his chest still and those words of apology have failed to fill it. Evan blankly says, “Jared and I broke up.”

Connor’s eyes widen, shocked at the seeming non-sequitur. But then his expression morphs into one of guilt and understanding, “Oh no, that was because of me. Wasn’t it?” Connor squeezes his eyes and hands shut before reopening them and repeating, “I’m so sorry.”

Evan looks down and quietly says, “I am too.” Evan looks up at him again, “Do you have somewhere you can stay?” He wonders if Connor expected to stay with him or not, and what he’d do if Connor says he does. But, Evan doesn’t see a suitcase behind him so Connor must be staying in a hotel of some sorts. 

“Yeah, I’m actually staying at a Holiday Inn. I just wanted to see you,” Connor shyly tells his shoes. 

“I see,” Evan purses his lips and nods. He jerks his head towards the building and says, “I’m going to go now.” He quickly starts to walk away when Connor snaps back into motion and asks, “You’re leaving?” He sounds hurt. No matter how strange Evan is feeling now he feels an echo of Connor’s pain in his own chest and stops. He doesn’t look at him as he says, “I can’t do this now, Connor.” 

Connor reels back slightly as if struck, “I really screwed up this time didn’t I? You don’t want to talk to me.”

After a beat of too long silence, Connor weakly says, “It’s ok, I understand. I won’t bother you again, Evan.”

As Connor dejectedly starts to walk away, Evan speaks without thinking as he blurts, “I just need time.” Connor turns around, a question in his eyes. “Give me time,” Evan repeats, “If you can.”

“Okay,” Something like hope flickers in Connor’s eyes as he nods, “Anything.”

“One more thing,” Evan pats his pockets for a pen; he always keeps a pen on him. Without fail he finds one and pulls it out to scribble on a piece of paper Zoe’s details, “This is for you. It’s your sister’s information,” Evan hands it to him, “She wants to see you.”

Connor’s eyes widen in shock as he accepts the piece of scrap paper scribbled with very important information, “Thank you,” Connor holds the paper in his hands and clutches it tightly before folding it in neat little squares and sliding it in his pocket. He opens his mouth to say something and then closes it. The two of them communicate through a quiet stare that says far too little and far too much of what’s going on in their heads and hearts. For a moment, everything seems so quiet around them that he almost believes that they are the only two people in the world, but then Connor quietly thanks him again and turns around to walk away; sadness in each step. 

******

  
  


The man sits on a hotel bed. 

The man pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket. Scribbled on the paper is a number. 

The man pulls out his phone and types in the number. He pauses and doesn’t hit dial, just stares at the number on the screen that acts as a gateway towards contacting someone he hasn’t spoken to in years. 

In the morning, he decides, he will call her. 

When morning arrives, he brushes his teeth and takes a long hot shower. Grooming his hair in the bathroom he looks at himself in the mirror and thinks himself a stranger. He hasn’t seen those mismatched eyes except for glimpses caught when he had to take off his contacts. The man brushes his brown hair, it goes past his ears and just barely touches his shoulders. Those two things are the same, those two things are what belongs to the boy who ran away all those years ago. The new things that he sees in the man’s reflection are the tattoos, they vine around his arms and flow around his chest. Each of them hold memories, most of them good. 

The man gets dressed and in the best shirt he owns he sits by the window of the hotel and calls his sister. There is no point in getting dressed for he’s only making a call, but it grounds him in the significance of the moment and freshly irons out his thoughts into something cohesive. As the phone rings, he considers the view. It is not much to speak of. He’s staying in a hotel in a city outside of San Francisco because hotels in the city are more expensive. So, he stares out at a freeway where cars pass and disappear only to be overtaken by other anonymous cars. He wonders who’s in them and where they’re going. He was once like them. In transit. Anonymous. 

Right before the last dial goes out, the call is answered. 

There’s a short pause of only static and breathing. 

A voice hesitantly says, “Hello?” And it’s much harder to speak than he thought. 

The voice is that of a woman, “Who is this?” But it’s his sister’s nevertheless. Despite the call’s distortion of static, she still has her voice. Slightly soft and a little deep and very much his sister’s. She sounds cautious and more than a little hopeful. This hope is what pushes him to say the word that comes easiest and naturally to him at his moment, “Zoe.”

The woman inhales quickly and there’s a brief sound of activity as if she dropped the phone. When she returns she breathlessly asks, “Connor?”

The man swallows with difficulty, “Yes, it’s me.”

The man can practically feel the suspicion and tentative hope radiating out of his phone as the woman says, “Tell me something only Connor would know.”

The man doesn’t pause and goes straight into saying, “Your favorite song to play on the guitar is ‘Hey, Jude.’ It could be different now, but it was once the only thing you’d play. You were once really into an ice skating phase and you wanted to be a figure skater. You said you liked it because you said it felt like flying. When we were younger, we used to hold hands as we ice skated so we wouldn’t drift apart. One time we tried to see if we could hold hands and spin at the same time but we ended up falling right on our faces. And another time, you tried to dye your hair pink but ended up with bright red hair. It was _ really _ red,” The man almost smiles, “You looked like a tomato exploded on your head and I teased you and called you Wendy for a week. I kept asking you where your pigtails were before you nearly threw a toaster at me. I guess throwing electronics runs in the family because I got in trouble one time at school for throwing a printer. At least you didn’t actually throw the toaster at me.” 

The woman breathes in deeply and shakily says, “I didn’t because it was still plugged into the wall and mom stopped me.”

“And here I thought it was because you loved me,” 

The woman laughs wetly as if she’s crying, “It _ is _you.”

“Yes, it’s me...Hi, Zo…”

“Connor, this is crazy, Jesus Christ,” Zoe laughs loudly and joyfully. The sort of laugh she used to give when she was bursting with happiness, “I knew you’d come back, I knew it, and now...Wow,” She sighs, “I have so much to tell you...”

******

_ “Evan! Connor called me! He called me and he’s alive and I can’t believe it but I actually talked to him and he’s coming over and I’m going to _ see _ him and---aaahhh, I don’t know what to do or say and I’m really really nervous yet so so excited and happy!! ” _

_ “Zoe!!! That’s amazing!!! That’s so wonderful! I’m very happy for you.” _

_ “It is, I’m kind of speechless right now. I was crying right after we stopped talking haha. Anyways, I just wanted to thank you, Evan. Really, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. You found him and now I’m going to see him again. My brother.” _

_ “Of course, Zoe! You know, I didn’t actually find him, we just kind of---I don’t know, met again?” _

_ “It doesn’t matter how it happened. He’s back again and that’s all that matters. So, thank you.” _

_ “Really, Zoe. You don’t need to thank me. I really didn’t do anything.” _

_“You’re wrong. I think you’ve done far more than you’ll ever realize. One day I’m going to sit you down and tell you everything.”_

_ “Oh...Okay….Well, um, thank you…” _

_ “Listen, I’ll talk to you later, I need to go get ready.” _

_ “Ok, have fun. I mean, have a good time! And have fun...You know what I mean...” _

_“I will.”_

******

Zoe shakily puts down her phone and gives a shaky sigh. Looking in the mirror, she brushes her hands through her hair in an effort to lay it flat. She knows she looks a little different from all those years ago she last saw her brother. Her face has lost a good portion of its baby fat and she carries herself a lot more like a woman rather than a girl. But, sometimes when she looks in the mirror it’s like she hasn’t changed at all. Her eyes are still the same: round and searching. Her smiles are still a little unsure and hesitant, but when she’s really happy it’s quick to jump into life on her face. Zoe doesn’t know what Connor will think when he sees her. And likewise, she doesn’t know what she’ll think when she sees him but she can’t bring herself to do anything until he arrives.

Zoe is by the window facing the street when she spots him. A massive anvil of memory strikes her in the chest when she sees his long lanky figure step out of a taxi. Zoe doesn’t even wait until he steps up to her door, she flings the door open and stares at him coming up the walkway. Connor freezes. 

For six years, Zoe has been making a life of her own. It’s been a good life, a good healthy life filled with love. It’s been a long time since she’s felt that something was missing but now she feels it. That feeling painfully flares within her and scorches her from the inside at the sight of her brother. It screams:_ there he is, there he is, there’s the missing piece. _

Looking incredibly unsure from where he stands, Connor shuffles his feet awkwardly. 

Someone says something, Zoe doesn’t know who, but it doesn’t matter when she rushes into her brother’s arms and hugs him tight. Her heart is pounding so hard it’s leaving her breathless. “Connor,” She wheezes and blinks past tears. 

Connor shakily hugs her back and says, “Hey, Zo…” He gulps, “Long time no see.”

Zoe sucks in a breath and painfully smiles, “No kidding.”

Connor carefully pats her back and Zoe feels all of five years old again, delighting in her older brother’s hugs because he’s fun, cool, and she loves him. It’s not all that different now, she’s twenty five years old and she feels incredibly small and like she’ll break if this turns out to be a dream. Pressing her face into his sharp shoulder she says, “You’re here, you’re _ really _ here.” 

“Yes, I am.”

“I really missed you, you know. _ So much.” _

Connor tightens the hug and Zoe thinks she feels the cool splashes of tears on her shoulder as he says, “I missed ya too.”

When they part from their hug, Zoe leads Connor inside by the hand like she used to do when she was younger--determined to have her older brother follow her and give her his attention. It was a simpler time but those basic emotions still remain at the core.

She watches Connor take off his jacket and slip off his shoes. He carefully puts them by the door and steps inside her home like he’s afraid if he steps too hard the whole place will collapse. His movements are familiar yet strange, like a word echoing off a tunnel and growing softer over time. He’s careful when he looks around her house. He’s so quiet it’s like he’s a timid respectful ghost. Zoe doesn’t blame him, she’s almost shy as she tries not to stare at him and catalogue all the differences she sees. 

They’re both operating in a kind of silent truce where neither of them want to break the quiet between them and talk about more serious topics. When she was on the phone with him earlier, their call was fairly brief and only settled down the plans for a meet-up. 

She watches him pick up one of the pictures of her and Alana. He has a peculiar look on his face before he puts it back and stares into space for a moment. He knows about her and Alana because it was one of the first things she told him on the phone and absolutely had to tell him about. He seemed pleasantly surprised when she told him over the phone but it’s hard to tell what he feels when she sees him now, in person. 

That feeling she used to have that Connor was far away and untouchable comes back. It makes her feel like a cool wind has swept between them and highlighted their distance. However, somehow, the distance that used to be between them when they were younger and living under the same house seemed much more insurmountable than the current one she feels after six years of not seeing him. Rather than fall back into her old practice of leaving Connor to muddle through his thoughts, she slowly approaches him and points to the picture, “That was when Alana and I first visited the Castro. We went to the movie theater there and saw The Princess Frog. It was the sing-a-long version and it was fun ‘cause we were all singing.”

Connor gives her a small smile and points at another picture, “What about that one?” He picks it up and looks at it closely, “What _ on Earth _is going on here?” Zoe picks it up and laughs before she tells him. 

There aren’t that many pictures in the house but there are more than enough for Connor to ask about them and for Zoe to share a story if there is one. When the photos have run out and they are left with the elephant in the room, Zoe asks him about whatever he’s comfortable talking about and stays away from that night he ran away. 

******

Connor ends up staying in the guest room for that first night which then extends to a whole week. 

During that week, on a night where cool autumn wind plays with their hair and a honey moon hangs in the distance, Connor tells Zoe his story. 

Zoe is grateful to hear what she has missed and a gentle sort of melancholia settles over her as all the questions that lived inside her for so long fade away. They lightly swing back and forth on the porch swing and listen to soft music. Both of them relaxing in the present with the knowledge that the past is far behind them. 

******

It’s not that Evan has been avoiding Connor...It’s just that he’s avoiding Connor. 

He knows that Connor has been staying with Zoe for the past couple of weeks. They’ve been getting to reacquaint themselves with each other once again. Spending all of that lost time with each other; lost time that extends farther than those six years Connor was gone. Zoe will sometimes update Evan on what she’s been doing while hanging out with Connor. They have good days and they have bad days apparently, but the good days outweigh the bad, thankfully. She keeps inviting him to go over but he keeps declining her invitations by stating he’s busy--which he never really is. 

******

_He's in the empty house again. _

_His plants are all over the place. Ivy hangs from the walls and his cacti line the floors in a way that makes it difficult to walk. Evan still searches the rooms, but it's even harder to find what he's looking for when all the rooms are filled with plant-life. Things from his apartment litter the floor as a huge storm swept in and only targeted his poor possessions. The mess is making him anxious and he badly wants to start tidying everything up but he needs to find what he's looking for. If only he could remember what that was---_

Evan wakes up when he hears his phone buzz. He thinks it's either Alana or Zoe but is surprised to see it's from an unknown contact. Looking at the message he sees, 

**?: Hey, Evan, I hope you’re doing well. I wanted to know if you’d like to meet up sometime? I’d like to talk to you if that’s ok. If you don’t want to talk to me I understand, let me know and I won’t bother you again.**

Evan sighs. Unease from his dream radiates out of him and makes him feel slightly queasy. Reading Connor's message only makes his heart pound faster. After taking a moment to calm down, Evan's clearer head decides that he's been avoiding talking to Connor long enough. He types, **E:**** Sure, we can talk. ******

**********

The house is partly decorated with holiday lights and they gleam brightly and invitingly in the early winter darkness. Zoe eagerly welcomes him into the house because she’s been pushing him to come and have an actual conversation with Connor. Upon entering the house, he first smells incense. The girls don’t typically burn it but when they do it the incense fills the house with a dim dusky smell of burning sage and pine. Evan kicks off his boots, unwraps his scarf, and slips off his jacket. When he looks up after straightening his sweater he sucks in a breath when he sees Connor appear from around a corner. His heart seizes in his throat and all he can say is a croaking, “Hello.”

Connor looks similarly surprised and shuffles nervously in his socked feet, “Hey.”

Zoe looks between them excitedly but when neither of them make a move or speak she loses patience. She says, “Oh, come on, guys.”

Evan nervously plays with his hands and is surprised when Zoe grabs his hand and starts pulling him and Connor to the backyard’s porch, “Come here,” She slides the screendoor open and then practically throws both him and Connor outside, “Talk out here and don’t come back in till you have both figured yourselves out.” She slides the screen door shut and locks it. Evan and Connor stare at the door but Zoe doesn’t come over to open it again. Evan keeps his eyes on the floor but Connor is the first to speak, “How about we sit here?” Connor sits on the porch swing and gently rocks it back and forth with a nervous leg. Evan joins him and searches for what to say. 

The evening is cool and chills Evan because he left his jacket and shoes inside the house. There’s a blanket draped across the back of the swing but neither he nor Connor reach for it even if they are both cold. If he catches a cold he’s going to blame it on Zoe. 

“It’s cold,” Connor awkwardly states. 

Evan rubs his hands and nods, “It is." He has a sudden moment of startling self-awareness where the awkwardness in the air is overshadowed by a reemergence of his hurt. The memory of Connor leaving him a second time strikes him all anew and it almost makes it unbearable to sit with the other man for any moment longer. With that, Evan gets up with a deep frown and holds the porch railings tightly. He can feel Connor’s eyes on the back of his head; trying to understand what Evan is feeling and guess what he’s going to say. Evan finally breathes out, “You can’t keep doing this.” He stares out at the night sky and waits for Connor's response.

The porch swing creaks to a stop. Connor says, “I know…I’m sorry...”

Evan clenches the porch railings tighter and grits his teeth. The pain he felt when he saw Connor was gone for a second time rises back up again. It’s as sharp as when he felt it the moment that it happened, “It really hurts, Connor. Do you know what it's like to think someone is going to stay and then ‘poof’ they’re gone?” He turns around but doesn’t look at him, “You promised me you were going to stay.”

Connor weakly says, “I know…” Pain is a bright shining thing in his voice, “And I know I didn’t, I really regret leaving you like that again.” 

Evan’s hands tremble, “Then why did you?”

Connor looks down, “I was scared.”

“Scared?” That was the last thing Evan expected to hear.

Connor keeps his eyes low and stands up to lean against the railing beside Evan, “For starters, there was Jared,” He pauses and glances up at Evan guiltily. When Evan doesn’t say anything he says continues, “And then there was the fact that...I was scared. I was scared because I wanted to go back home for the first time in a long time. You made me want to come back.” When Evan stares at him in shock, Connor continues in a sad voice, “I haven’t had a real home for six years, Ev. I was safe and comfortable in Italy but it wasn’t the same. Whenever I thought of home I ended up thinking of…Well, I ended up thinking of you.”

Evan blinks and wheezes, “Me?” 

“Well, yes,” Connor shyly says and runs a nervous hand through his hair. 

Evan keeps on blinking in shock and then searches his own thoughts. For some reason, those words sounded like a confession. The big three words hang invisibly in the air and yet Evan hears it ringing in his ears and blooming in the sky. Evan’s heart beats once, twice, and then, “I think I’ve felt the same...Nothing has felt right without you here.”

Connor sucks in a small breath and then smiles like Evan said something beautiful. 

******

When they return to sitting on the swing, the air is a bit more open and free between them. The heaviness has departed and left them feeling just the slightest bit lighter as they rock gently back-and-forth on the swing. It is during this change of atmosphere that Connor tells Evan his story. 

Connor nods and looks down at his feet, “I guess I still owe you an explanation for why I left all those years ago.”

With concern, Evan says, “Honestly, Connor. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to share your story if you don’t want to.”

Connor firmly says, “I want to though. I’ve been wanting to explain since the moment I left.” A barely noticeable tremor passes through Connor. Evan gets the impression that he isn’t actually ready to actually tell him but Connor doesn’t wait for Evan to argue against it as he says, “It wasn’t easy, you know? I thought it would be but it really really wasn’t,” Connor shakily sighs, fidgets and then carefully says, “I was always fascinated with the perfect get-away. Some people have their happy places that they go to as a mode of espaiscm but I would plan out how I would run away. It was either that or planning my suicide, to be frank,” he notices Evan’s shocked expression, “Yeah,” is all he says, “Me too. I didn’t tell you before because, well, I don’t know why. Anyways…

“I had a million different ideas about how to run away and out of those millions there were at least a handful that I considered to actually be feasible. I have to admit, Evan, there were some that were truly outrageous. Good enough to be in some B-rated action movie directed by Quentin Tarantino with a whole load of explosions,” Connor laughs softly to himself but it’s a sad sound, “Anyways, I researched a whole lot on how to run away successfully. You know, disappear. There’s a whole lot that goes into it but I won’t bore you with the details. I’ll just tell you, I have no idea how I’d still be alive were it not for an insane amount of luck.

“I was lucky that my parents were really well-off and that they’d given me an allowance for as long as they did. I saved every last dollar. I put it away with the thought that that was my escape money. That one day, I’d use it to get the hell out of dodge. They thought I was saving up for a new car or to help with my college tuition or whatever, I don’t know. They just kept giving me that money for years and I squirreled it away in a little corner of my closet.”

“Taking into account birthday money and Bar Mitzvah money --- I’d saved well over $5,000 dollars by the time I left. That still wasn’t very much but it was something. I got the cheapest plane ticket I could find and I ended up in Spain. Listen, all I wanted to do was get away from home and the fact that I didn’t know Spanish didn’t occur to me until I was there. I know, it’s stupid. What was I thinking? It's just that everything was moving so fast. I had my plan and everything but the actual process of going through with it was an entirely different monster.”

Connor falls silent for a while, lost in thought. A significant amount of time passes before Evan musters up enough courage to ask, “Connor?”

Connor blinks and then says, “Sorry. I was just remembering…” He sighs, “I was in a really bad place. Funnily enough, running away and all that planning was easy enough. What came _ after--- _not so much.”

Evan fidgets. He's not sure if he himself is ready to hear the rest of the story, “Why?”

Connor’s voice goes quieter as people pass them by, “I fell into drugs.”

Evan pales. 

“I should probably mention I was in Italy at the time. I was scraping by and just barely at that. I hit rock bottom. I thought that I had made the biggest mistake of my life, but there was no way I was going back home. As I said, um,” Connor looks down and shakily takes in a breath, “I was at rock bottom...I went to a bridge one night and I was going to jump”

Connor’s hands clench into shaky fists. Evan dearly wants to reach out and grab one of them; just to show support.

“Coco found me. He talked me out of it.” Connor opens his mouth and then closes it. Connor's jaw works as he takes a few steadying breathes. Evan decides to screw it and he lightly touches Connor’s hand, “He did?”

Connor’s face softens and he glances at Evan in appreciation, “Yes, he saved my life.”

Evan squeezes his hand. His mind briefly revisits his memories of Coco and he finds a greater appreciation for the man in them. He needs to fly back to Italy and give him the biggest hug the man has ever had. Returning all of his attention back on Connor, Evan asks, “And then what happened?” but then he realizes that maybe Connor doesn’t want to talk anymore and quickly says, “Hey, it’s ok if you don't want to share anymore...I really appreciate you telling me all this already and I don’t mind if you want to stop.”

Connor squeezes his hand in thanks, “No, it’s fine, just thinking,” Connor looks up, “I don’t know what Coco saw in me,” Connor says thoughtfully, “He just decided he wanted to try and help me...I was annoyed by this, of course. I didn’t think I needed help and I thought I didn’t want it either. He helped me anyway. Later he told me why...He told me I reminded him of his brother. His brother died of a drug overdose.” They pause in a beat of silence for a moment.

“I ended up living in a spare room in his grandfather’s place. You know, the man who was teaching me accordion? It was really rough. They were nice to me...Maybe kinder than I deserved but it was rough trying to quit cold-turkey. I didn’t understand why they were helping me. I didn’t understand how they could be so kind… I thought that there was surely some mistake or that they were secretly planning to harvest my organs or something but no...They were just there for me and it was nice,” Connor smiles briefly to himself.

“Things were fine for a while afterwards,” Connor glances up at Evan and says, “And then you came along and well, you know the rest of the story after that.”

Evan doesn't quite smile but his face is soft as he says, "I do."

They swing back and forth on the swing and continue holding hands in silence. Every time Evan looks at Connor he takes in the new details of the man. It is only now that he fully recognizes that he has his hair back the way he used to: shoulder length and brown. Connor isn't wearing the contacts anymore either but somehow none of that really mattered to Evan until now. Connor may bear some similarities to the boy who ran away all those years ago but that doesn't mean that they are the same. Something about the way Connor exists in this space beside Evan gives the impression that he has finally stopped running. He looks calm and quiet, like all of the messy parts inside of himself have slowly been untangling themselves over the years and left him free. 

Even if he doesn't want to break this gentle cocoon of silence, Evan can't help it. He asks, “Connor, you’re not planning on leaving again are you?”

Connor exits out of his own rumination and looks at Evan. He chews his lip nervously, “No, I wasn’t..." He glances at the porch door behind Evan and then searches Evan's eyes as he says, "I’ll stay if you guys will have me.”

Evan's heart lifts to hear that but he tempers it down slightly so as to not let his hope get too high. He earnestly says, “Of course, we will. We want you here with us, Connor. Why would you think otherwise?”

Connor looks away and kicks his feet out in front of him. That action was like an echo of his younger self and it almost made Evan smile to see it. Connor slowly says, “I don’t know, it seems like you all have good lives now and I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

Evan furrows his brow and turns Connor to face him, “We want you to stay. _ I _want you to stay. I asked you to stay with me a while ago but---I want to ask you again,” Evan swallows nervously, “Connor, will you stay?” Evan waits for the words to sink in for the both of them. He watches as Connor's eyes go through a whole mixture of emotion and before Connor says anything he says, “I want you to promise me that you will. If you don’t think you can keep this promise for whatever reason then don’t promise me it at all.” 

Connor looks like he understands. "I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

Relief, joy, and hope flood through Evan because he believes him. Last time it was different, it was dark and Evan was drifting asleep so he couldn't see Connor's face. This time, it may be dark but he can see the sincerity and determination in Connor's eyes. “It could be a long time, you know?” Evan cracks a smile, “Are you up for that?”

“I am,” Connor smiles back. He brings a hand up to bring gently Evan's forehead to his own, “I promise, this time I’ll stay.”


	22. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: This chapter is in reverse-chronology.

The sounds of a lively party sound like distant music to the pair who stand atop a hill. A giant silver moon hangs up above them like a planet of snow and the stars that scatter around it appear as bright and crisp as icy snow. However, the night is far from chilly because the day itself was hot with a sun fit to burst in flames. Some of that warmth still hums through the open fields and exists as the soft breeze that floats around the night sky.

Evan carries an empty champagne chute, the smell of the alcohol dimly lingers in the glass long after he sipped all of the bubbly beverage. He’s a little tipsy, the world feels a little tipsy, and the stars dance around if he focuses too hard. Warm happiness suffuses him and makes him lean on Connor and search for his hand. When he fumbles around with Connor’s sleeve he laughs victoriously when he finds his hand and holds it tightly. Connor steadies him as much as he can in his own pleasantly inebriated state and amusedly asks, “How much did you drink?”

“I don’t know…” Evan taps his chin thoughtfully but ends up poking his cheek instead. He enthusiastically says, “But I can have more!” 

“Heh, me too,” Connor smiles mischievously.

“We should go back!” Evan crows. He turns around and the planet spins with him. Before he can start marching back to the party and all it’s pretty lights, Connor reaches for him and stops him, “Wait.”

Evan blinks in confusion, “Wait, wait? Why?”

Connor opens his mouth and then closes it. Furrowing his brow he lets go of him, “I forgot.”

“Okay,” Evan happily starts to set off again when Connor says, “Wait I remember.” Evan rolls his eyes good-naturedly but discovers that that was a bad idea because it made him dizzy again, “Yeah? Don-Dont’ forget this time,” Evan wags a finger at Connor.

“It’s just, the stars, dude,” Connor waves a hand up at the twinkling night sky, “They’re so bright and dreamy.”

Evan cranes his head back and stares up at the sky, “Yeah, they are.” They both stay like that for a while before Evan pops his head back forward and says, “Champagne time.”

“Wait, Evan! Look!” Connor cries. Evan sighs, “Wait again? What is it?” He looks up at what Connor is pointing at but there’s nothing different. Maybe the stars look like they’re in water and floating around but that’s about it. Connor explains, “I saw a shooting star.”

“You did? Where!?” Evan wildly looks around again. His feet were starting to hurt after standing for so long, especially after all that dancing they did earlier. 

“It’s gone now,” Connor laughs.

Evan kicks the ground sadly, “Aw man…” “it’s ok, I don’t need any more wishes. I have all I want.” Evan smiles softly at Connor so he gets his meaning. 

Connor returns the smile and threads their fingers together. 

******

Beneath the white clouds of a large tent, fairy lights and lanterns dim as a spotlight shines in the center of a dance floor. Two women dressed in long white dresses softly waltz to the sound of soft, humming music. They hold onto each other delicately yet purposefully as they gaze into each other’s eyes and smile as they dance. 

Evan glances at Connor and finds him just as mesmerized by the sight as everyone else is. Connor is caught up in being able to see this big moment for his sister. If he were asked seven or eight years ago he never would’ve imagined he’d be in a position to share such a special moment with the people he loves.   
  
It’s been one year since he promised Evan he’d stay. Even if it’s only been one, the significance of his kept promise feels like it’s lasted years. Each day he’s decided to stay has been better than the last. He finally feels like he’s starting to put down solid roots and that they’d be strong enough to weather whatever should come to pass. 

When it comes time for Connor to dance with his sister alongside Alana and her father, Connor looks at Evan with panic sharp in his eyes. He’s rehearsed this particular dance a couple of times before and by the last practice run Connor was more comfortable, but his nervousness rises once again and freezes him momentarily in place. Evan gives him a little shake and whispers something encouraging in his ear. Barely a second passes before Connor joins Zoe as he should. She greets him with a wide beaming smile and he returns the gesture. She places one hand on his shoulder and they begin to step in time to the music. 

The two pairs of dancers pass each other like they’re in orbit. Connor and Zoe seem to be having a conversation just with their eyes. Zoe smiles up at Connor and thinks, _I’m so happy you’re here. _

Connor glances down at their feet and then smiles shyly back at her, _I’m happy to be here. So, so, happy. _

As they dance he finds himself trying to find Evan in the crowd. He and Zoe are a part of a spotlight and everything else appears to be in shadow. However, he still finds Evan in the crowd for a split second.   
  


It was just enough time for him to see that he’s smiling.

******

When Evan first spots Jared amongst the crowd of wedding party-goers, he squeaks in surprise and then hides behind Connor. Connor stands ramrod still and asked him what’s wrong. As a reply, Evan urgently whispers, “I saw Jared.” 

“Really? Where?” Connor starts looking around, leaving Evan to fumble and chase after him for cover, “I thought you two were on good terms now?”

“We are, can you just stay still?” Evan starts looking around for Jared too, just to know where the other man is, “I just would rather not see him now. I think it’d be awkward.”   
  
Connor says, “Oh, I see. I guess it would.” He let’s Evan hide behind his back a bit more and then says, “Hey, I think I see him.” 

“Wait? Really?” Evan peers around Connor and then jumps when he hears a familiar voice say, “See who? If you’re looking for a groom I think you’re at the wrong wedding, folks.” 

Evan spins around and spots Jared looking at them in private amusement, “Hey, Jared.”

“Hey, yourself.” Jared walks up to them in a nice suit and a big grin. Evan knows that when Jared grins it can mean many different things, not all of them good. Except, this time his grin shines with good-meaning. It falters somewhat when he sees Connor but stays there nevertheless, “And hey, I recognize you. It’s been a while, huh?”

Connor doesn’t quite seem to know with his face but he smiles anyway, “Good to see you again, Jared.”

“I heard you were back, how’s the undead-life treating you?” 

Connor doesn’t take offense to the question, instead he laughs, “I have to say, I prefer it.”

“I should hope you feel that way,” Jared says almost forcefully and glances between Evan and Connor. 

“I do,” Connor’s back straightens almost defensively.

Evan steps in and asks him how he’s doing. They catch up very briefly, repeating most of the things both of them already know. The conversation is easy, if a little awkward but the three of them handle it well. When Jared excuses himself he says something that catches Evan’s attention: “Well, I better go find Steph.”

”Steph?” Evan asks, intrigued.

Jared smiles widely, ”She’s my date.”   
  
Evan blinks. He’s surprised but more pleased if anything, “Where is she?”

”Last I saw her she was getting some wine. I should go look for her now,” Jared pats Evan’s shoulder and turns to Connor. A bunch of emotions flit through his eyes before he quietly says, “Treat him well.” Connor’s eyes widen in shock before understanding settles in his eyes and he firmly nods. 

Jared looks glad to see him do so and then he smirks at Evan and says, “Well, see ya later losers.” He spins on his heel and then disappears into the crowd.   
  


******

  
It’s early morning and the world is hushed with sleep. Evan wakes up in a warm cocoon of a hug. His and Connor’s breaths are in sync and Evan focuses on that for a couple of seconds before his alarm goes off. Connor sniffles awake and sleepily blinks his eyes open. 

“Good morning,” Evan softly says. Some part of him still can’t quite get over the fact that he can do this now. Go to sleep one night and then wake up in the morning to see Connor still there. 

“Morning,” Connor smiles a sleepy smile in return. Morning light from the window behind him highlights him in soft pastels. It makes him look dream-like and barely there. But no, he’s there, his arm is a warm weight around Evan’s waist and their legs are threaded together like a tightly knitted chain. Linked together. Regardless, Evan scoots himself closer and nuzzles his head in Connor’s neck, “You were in my dream.”

“Was I? Hope it was a good one.” Both of their voices are slightly dry and scratchy from just waking up. It adds to the intimacy of the moment.

“It was nice...If a little boring.”

“Gee, thanks,” Connor snorts. Their alarm is still going off in the background but neither of them really want to get up. Connor is the one who finally slides away and shushes the alarm.

He stays standing rather than crawl back in bed because today is an important day after all. Evan watches as Connor stretches his arms up and scrunches up his face in a delicious stretch, “So I wasn’t like, Darth Vader in your dream or something?”

“Nah,” Evan’s throat is bothering him and he won’t speak anymore until he gets a glass of water in his hand and down his throat. 

They’re both a little calmer and zen than expected. Last night they were both buzzing with anticipation and excitement for what was going to happen later that evening. Now, all of that excitement lingers under a very thin and breakable glass. He’s sure that as the event approaches, all their excitement will return full throttle. 

******

_Evan is walking through an empty house. Each door opens up to nothingness and he can’t find what he’s looking for. Silence is right behind each step he takes and he’s convinced he’ll never find what he’s looking for. _

_Until he thinks about going outside. _

_It takes going through a couple more hallways until he finds the porch door. Brilliant greenery shines from the sunshine flooding the outside. After a moment of deliberation, he approaches it and slides it open. _

_Soft, warm air enters his lungs and expands them into tranquility. His eyes settle on someone waiting for him outside. Next thing he knows, he’s being hugged by Connor and everything’s okay. _

_Finally. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, everyone, thank you so much for following this story of mine. Not only is this my second completed WIP but it’s my LONGEST lol. I’ve almost abandoned this story so many times before but I’m so so happy I didn’t. My sticking to this is massively due in part to the support I’ve been given by all of you, so, thank you very much for reading this!! I hope the ending was good, I don’t think I’m too satisfied with it myself but I’m my own biggest critic lmao. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading! It’s been lovely writing for the deh fandom but I’m moving on now. Maybe I’ll get inspired to write for this musical again but idk. So, for now, goodbye!! Love you all! 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, my lovelies! I hope you enjoyed this first bit I uploaded! Leave a comment if you did! I LOVE READING THEM. They give me LIFE.
> 
> Also, I have a Tumblr for updates on my fics now. It’s called chopped-gummy and I put (mediocre) deh doodles on there so...it’ll be fun! Haha ok, ily and thanks for reading 💖


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